The Saints Aren't Coming
by 2NYwLove
Summary: Picks up where NOLA Rising leaves off. S4 through S06E08. Continuing adventures of Gus Broussard and her attempt to not let the Big Apple take a bite out of her.
1. So Sad About Me

**Chapter 1: So Sad About Me**

**A/N: Canon and angst following Snow Day, what happens when Gus leaves and Flack doesn't follow. S4 spoilers. Don't own what you recognize.**

* * *

In all honesty, Gus had no clue what she was doing. She couldn't look at Flack, which is the only way she managed to see the cab heading towards her. The fact that he wasn't meeting her eyes, in fact had his eyes closed in concentrated disbelief was how she managed to escape in the first place. Without thinking she commanded the cabbie to take her to Grand Central Station.

Standing in the middle of the chaos of the train station, Gus used everything within her power to not bust into sobs right there. "Get a grip, girl," she admonished herself in the middle of a crowd.

Suddenly spying a mailing station she walked over before she lost her nerve. Grabbing a mailer, she dropped a couple of items in to it and scribbled a familiar address on the front. "I need this delivered first thing in the morning" she told the bored looking employee behind the desk.

"Whatever, that'll be $14.83."

Gus forked over the last of the cash from her wallet. "Damn it" she cursed.

"I don't make the prices lady, if you don't want to send it express-" the employee started.

"That wasn't directed at you. Keep the change," Gus said, spying an ATM out of the corner of her mind. Taking out the daily maximum, she headed in the nearest restroom to try to collect her thoughts.

If she traveled by bus, train or plane, they could easily figure out where she was headed. But where the hell was she headed? Gus wondered to herself. Gus had just blown off the only guy to love her for her because...why the hell was she doing that again? Oh yeah, because she was cursed, the ghosts of her past wanted to make sure she knew that her loving someone apparently meant everyone she cared for could potentially get blown up. So now she was running away. "Runs in the family," Gus mused to herself in the mirror over the dirty sink.

She was still in disbelief that Mac was leaving the lab, no _his _lab to run off to London with Peyton. When Peyton said she was thinking of asking Mac to come on vacation with her, she didn't think it was going to be so…explosive.

"Car!" she said to herself suddenly. If she rented a car, they wouldn't know where she ended up. Of course that limited her to driving distance, but that was still a pretty big expanse of land to cover. Not that she had her passport with her, or anything except what was in her tote, for that matter.

Gus flirted her way to the last car available at the rental counter, despite the gnawing that occurred in the pit of her stomach. Desperate times, she said waving away the feeling of guilt. "Just get out of dodge," she said, sliding behind the wheel, which felt foreign to her after two years of big city living.

Gus drove, mindlessly, just trying to get as much distance between her and the city as possible. Finally exhausted and overwhelmed, Gus pulled over at a rest area. Looking at herself in the rear-view she was overcome with a sense of shame.

"What are you, fifteen?" she chastised herself, "things get weird and so you run away. You've messed up big time, Broussard. Flack won't forgive this. You have managed to lose your lover, your partner and your job in one day, all because you are afraid! You deserve to be alone and miserable!" she said aloud to her reflection.

The silence was deafening and crushing. But what choice did she have? Flack had an AK-47 staring him down and she froze instead of acting like the cop she was supposed to be, which resulted in Sanchez getting shot. And then no one listened to her when she knew the gas leak was a decoy. Because of that, Danny and Adam get held hostage and beat up and may never be able able to do their jobs again. The crowning moment in this tragedy was the lab getting blown up. It could have just as easily been Mac, Stella and Hawkes in there as well. Gus brought chaos and danger everywhere she went. Not to mention she just wasn't cut out for this, any of it. Flack was better off without her, they all were. Even as the thought formed in her mind, a tear formed in her eye, slipping down her cheek. Another following and then another, until sobs racked her body, her chest heaving, wails filling the silence of the car.

A ringing punctured Gus breakdown. A tinny version of "Macho Man" cut through her tears, bringing Gus back to reality, "TB" she said, sniffing up the last of her tears.

"I give up," her friend's strained voice came over the line.

"Tell me about it," Gus dripped.

"No, I mean I quit."

"Quit, quit your job?"

"Quit everything," he deadpanned.

The hair on the back of Gus' neck stood up, terror gripped at her. "TB, what do you mean everything? What happened, what's wrong? Have you done something?" Gus questioned.

"I just can't take it anymore." TB said, his voice devoid of any emotion.

Gus sprang to action, she had certainly done suicidal assessments before, but not usually on her friends, "Billy, have you thought about hurting yourself?" He didn't answer, Gus felt her breath catch, "Tibs, answer me."

"Yes."

"Did you take your gun home with you?" Gus questioned, hoping the answer was no. TB never took his gun home, it never let his desk, she wasn't even sure he knew how to load the damn thing. "Do you have a plan?" Gus asked, dreading the answer.

"I have these pills Doc Osher gave me, they are supposed to help me feel better."

"Have you taken any?" Gus tried to keep her voice calm.

"No, not yet."

"TB, where is Miss Loretta?"

"Mama? She's on a cruise."

"Is there anyone with you?"

"Beula is probably around here somewhere."

"TB, listen to me, I want you to take those pills and flush them down the toilet, and I want you to get Beula and get her to play cards with you and don't do anything until I get there!" Gus ordered.

"Get here, but you're in New York."

"Actually I am in Tennessee."

"Tennessee, what the hell are you doing there, working a case?"

"No, I um, sort of just left today."

"Left good god, child, are you doing worse than I am?" a note of normalcy crept back into TB's voice.

Great, Gus thought, her life was worse than someone who was contemplating suicide. "Look, I will get there as fast as I can, just sit tight, alright?" Gus pleaded.

TB sighed, "yeah, why the hell not, it will be good to have my free therapist back in town." Gus hung up, her heart thudding, everything really was falling apart.

* * *

Flack still was unsure how Gus had disappeared, but he figured she would be back. She probably just needed to decompress and cool down. It had been a rough day for all of them. Flack had been struggling with his own flashbacks when the lab exploded, he only imagined that Gus was going through some crap of her own. It was more than a little trying on his patience though, he didn't know how much effort he could keep putting into a relationship if it wasn't getting returned. He loved Gus, but he wasn't a glutton for punishment and it wasn't doing either of them any good to just sit spinning their wheels.

Flack waited up, flipping mindlessly through channels until finally giving up and going to bed. Maybe she crashed with Stella or at Mac's. Who knew, it all would be clearer in the morning.

Flack walked into the pit the next morning, Gus' desk remaining empty. "Surprised you are here today, Flack," Daddino remarked.

"Crime doesn't take a day off." Flack replied wryly.

"True enough, what about Gus?" Daddino asked, having not seen her yet.

Flack gave a shrug, "dunno, maybe at the lab."

"What's left of it," Daddino remarked, "go check it out, I don't need you over here."

Flack walked across the bridge to the new building, the clean up still continuing inside the lab. The damage had been somewhat negated by fire doors, but much of the glass in the modern set-up had been smashed. Flack caught sight of Stella ordering a man in coveralls around, he went over to see what was up. "Mac's not here?" he questioned.

"I guess he was serious about London," Stella said, her shoulders tense.

"But right away?" Flack wrinkled his brow.

"His cell is off," Stella sighed, "how about you, how are you and Gus doing?"

"I'm fine, a little shaken" Flack paused, Mac was out of pocket and Stella was asking about Gus which meant she hadn't spent the night with her, "I don't know about Gus."

"She might need to take a couple of days off, I think the shock hit her pretty hard. Medics wanted to admit her, I heard. How did you manage to keep her at home?"

Flack didn't have a chance to answer before Daddino appeared in the doorway. "Tony," Stella cried out is happy surprise, "it takes the lab getting blown up to get you to cross the bridge?"

Daddino didn't return the smile. "You know anything about this, Don?" he asked, holding up the express post box.

"Know about what?" Flack asked, his heart pounding.

Stella grabbed the box from Daddino and tipped it down. Gus' badge, gun and clip came sliding out, a piece of paper fluttering to the floor. "What the hell?" Stella exclaimed, her eyes narrowing.

Flack stooped and picked up the piece of paper, scanning the words that Gus has scrawled in haste, _Can't do this anymore, sorry. Thanks for all you have done, A. Broussard._

Flack stood there in shock, Daddino studying him, "I guess you didn't know either. Sorry, junior," Daddino said, turning on his heel and walking back to homicide.

"This is impossible" Stella snapped.

"I think it is more than possible, Stel, it's reality" Flack replied, his jaw tight.

"Well it is ridiculous and juvenile and I am getting to the bottom of it" Stella replied still incredulous.

"Good luck with that" Flack dripped, turning to walk away.

"Flack, don't you want to help with this?" Stella called after him, getting silence in return.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Let Me Hold It Open**

Gus sped to New Orleans, not caring how fast or reckless she was driving. She willed some statey to pull her over, wanting the release of tearing into someone. She made it to TB's house in eighteen hours, only stopping for gas and laughing at the suggestion of a speed limit. She barely registered the swath of destruction as she drove in to town. Some of it looked like it was a wreck before the storm. In some ways the hurricane cleared out things that needed to get torn down years before.

Gus found TB in his living room, doors unlocked. He was alive, but three sheets to the wind. "Good lord, Tibs, how much did you have to drink?"

"Whatever I had on hand," TB slurred, "and you look like shit."

"Thanks, ho, glad I could be here for you. Thank you for the warm greeting." TB didn't reply, only took another swig of whiskey. "Alright then, let's get you coffee and a shower. And sleep. I think we both need sleep" Gus said, turning off her cell phone, kind of stung by the fact that Flack hadn't called her. Maybe he was over her and her games.

Stella swore as Gus phone switched to voice mail again. She had calmed down Daddino enough to convince him to not erase Gus from the system and turn off her department cell phone, but he was less than happy. Of course, Stella wasn't exactly thrilled with Gus' stunt, quitting by express mail, leaving Flack without explanation, ignoring her duties…but Stella knew that one person could only take so much before they broke. She just hoped Gus would be able to put back together.

Gus and TB spent the next couple of days in a alcohol filled depressive state. "I thought you were coming here to cheer me up, sugar" TB said taking a hit off a joint on the porch of his house.

"I came here to make sure you didn't off yourself. And you are still alive. Plus seeing as I quit my job and broke up with my…whatever the hell Flack is, I didn't really have a lot of places to go" Gus said, tipping the bottle of vodka up to her lips.

"Being an adult sucks" TB sighed, "who would have thought us to end up jobless, man-less, depressive drunks?"

"I am more shocked about you being in that state than me" Gus snorted.

"Whatever, honey child. But we do need to get you some clothes. I cannot believe you left with nothing."

Gus gave an empty chuckle, "me neither."

She stared at her silent phone, Stella had stopped calling sometime earlier that day, after leaving a series of messages alternating between concerned and angry. Her last one was, "Fine, Gus when you want to grow up and talk about this, you know how to reach me. However, I have more important things to handle up here to be cleaning up your messes."

"You going to keep staring at that thing, you can't make it ring you know" TB gestured.

"I know, I just can't believe he hasn't tried to call" Gus sighed, lighting a cigarette.

"That's what you get for wounding a big hunk of a man. Strong and silent and probably meaner than a snake right now" TB replied.

"Well it isn't like I am going to call him" Gus retorted.

"Why not? Are you really planning on staying here?" TB asked.

"Why not? I already called the NOPD, they are more than willing to hire me. They need someone like me" Gus argued.

"No, they need someone like you can be, but not this hot mess sitting on my porch drinking herself half to death."

"You are one to talk" Gus rolled her eyes.

"I have a trust fund and no house payments. Speaking of which, if you stay are you going to keep your place up there for lover boy to live in?" TB asked.

Gus' shoulders slumped, "I hadn't thought that far ahead. It would be stupid to keep my place there. And I doubt Flack would want to stay there. And even if I did leave him, I don't really want to think about him getting it on in my place."

"Honey, don't take this the wrong way, but I think you got something wrong with your head" TB said, leaning over to pat her.

"How so?"

"You are willing to take a job with the NOPD probably not even making 30k a year in a place that reeks of mold, death, and corruption. You don't have an endless trust fund to draw on like any of that old vapid crowd you used to hang around with, your ex-fiancee has set up shop with 2 kids and a wife in Natchez, your old house was turned into a monstrosity by some new money nitwits from Poplarville and your only true friend here is cracking up. You want to give up a great job, apartment, man and life for New Orleans when she really hasn't given you much other than pain," TB espoused.

"What can I say, TB" Gus gestured, "it is an abusive relationship and I am good at those."

"I think maybe you should take my next appointment with Doc Osher" TB said, toking deeply.

When Gus and her hangover made it down to the kitchen the next afternoon, TB was sitting at the table drinking coffee and waving her cell phone. "He called, about an hour ago" TB said. TB grinned as Gus dialed the phone, hopefully she would get some sense talked into her by her handsome partner and be on the next plane back to New York.

Gus took the phone out to the porch, staring out over Audubon Park. She listened to Flack's empty voice with a heavy heart, "I just wanted to make sure you made it to wherever safe. Take care Gus." Gus dialed his number listening to the rings and hoping he would actually pick up.

Right before it clicked to voice mail, Gus heard a weary voice say, "Flack."

"Hey, it's me" Gus said, her voice wavering.

"Hi" Flack replied, not giving her anything more.

"I, um got your voice mail. I just wanted to let you know I am...well something. I'm back in New Orleans."

"Good to know, you may want to let Stella know" Flack's voice was steel.

Gus felt her heart breaking with each passing second, he was gone, she had pushed him too far away, "Don, I'm so sorry" she sniffed.

"You did what you thought was right. I can't keep fighting you on doing what you need to do" his voice remained even, though his heart was twisting in his chest.

"I just have more to figure out than I thought I did" Gus said, tears welling in her eyes and running down her face.

"Well I sincerely hope you figure it out, Gus, you deserve to be happy" Flack said the words with ice, but silently was adding, "with me."

"So do you" Gus chocked out.

Flack was thinking, "I thought I was, I thought we were" but he remained silent.

"Without me there to hold you back…"Gus started and then stopped, "You are going to have a great life, Flack."

"Is this really what you want?" Flack asked, his voice finally cracking.

"It isn't about wants anymore. We had a good run, but I can't do it anymore. I'm sorry" Gus gripped at the phone, not meaning her words, but knowing she had to cut this off in order to move on, or back or whatever it was she was doing.

"I woulda done anything for ya," Flack's accent thickened with emotion.

"I know, Flack, damn it, I know that and I wouldn't have been worth it. Let me go, you have to let me go" Gus pushed the phone closer up to her ear as she emotionally pushed Flack further away.

"Fine, have it your way, Augusta!" Flack snapped as he hung up.

The use of her given name and his tone broke Gus down completely, she returned to the kitchen, tears flowing freely muttering, "I need a drink."

"You just got up" TB explained, but was already at work on a batch of Bloody Mary's. "Honey, I'm so sorry" TB said, pulling his friend in for a hug before handing her the drink.

"It's my own damn fault" Gus said, wiping at her tears, "I don't deserve him. He can do so much better."

TB gave her a look of disapproval, "I highly doubt that, but until you believe that, I am wasting my breath."

Stella took one look at Flack's ashen complexion and rose from the desk, "Gus?" she questioned.

"She's in New Orleans, she's staying there" Flack replied his eyes full of anger and sadness.

"Are you going to go down there?" Stella asked him earnestly.

Flack shook his head, "No, I don't think that is a good idea. She needs her space and I am going to let her have it. As far as I am concerned, we may as well be strangers right now" Flack set his jaw.

"Are you sure about this, Don?" Stella asked, her face showing concern.

"She hasn't really left me much of a choice" Flack said before walking back to homicide. Stella shook her head and moved back to the piles of purchase orders she still had to go through.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Louisiana Lowdown**

Gus struggled to settle back into life in New Orleans. It was drastically different than it had been before the storm. And not just because two years ago she had a fluffy office job and was running with the ladies who lunch crowd. Being a cop in New Orleans was a whole different ballgame than in New York. Even though she had been raised in the city and knew it like the back of her hand, she was treated like an outsider. Some even went as far to call her a deserter for leaving the city for New York.

Gus was able to at least quell that by getting some back up from the cops she had been with during the flooding. There also wasn't the same sense of teamwork that Gus had gotten used to, not to mention the fact that the cops left on the force all seemed pretty damn close to a breakdown at any second. Rules were fast and loose, trying to keep up with crushing crime rates and a DA that refused to work with the Captain. Brass was confused how to best utilize her and she found herself missing even Lafferty and Thatcher's comments because at least she felt like they knew she was worth something.

"Not sure you can cut it out there" Brass said to her shortly after her hiring process was completed.

"I have consulted with the NOPD for years, Loo! I have been working with NYPD for the past two years, I just helped take down the biggest crime family on the Westside" Gus protested.

"Well this ain't New York, dawlin'" he drawled, undressing her with his eyes. Gus' skin crawled but she shook it off, some things never changed. "You are in the Second district for now, but we might have to move you to the Sixth if things continue at the pace they are going. And if they pull the National Guard out of here anytime soon, everyone will have to pitch in for Quarter duty."

"Fine, put me wherever you think I am best utilized."

"This isn't going to be martini lunches and ass kissing, I hope you are aware of that, Broussard."

"Loud and clear, sir" Gus said, all but saluting.

And it wasn't, morale was down while crime ran rampant. Gus felt like her pager was constantly going off and no crimes ever seemed to get solved. Witnesses didn't come forward, snitching got people assassinated, there was literally no crime lab and the courts let even violent offenders walk. TB had tried to warn her, even though he had only worked a desk in SWAT, he still had experienced all of the weaknesses of the current state of affairs in the city. And crime was only part of the issue, the whole city was hanging on by a thread. Gus had seen more meltdowns than she thought possible in line at the grocery. Of course having to wait an hour to check out gave you plenty of time to witness things. Alcohol use was up in everyone, and Gus felt herself slipping into old and destructive ways with quite ease. But you had to do something to numb yourself against all of what was and wasn't going on out there.

Her new partner was anything but open to being partnered with a woman, especially one he still considered green. "Took me five years to make detective" he grumbled to her by way of introduction.

"Yeah well, what is your collar rate like?" Gus shot back.

"Damn sight better than the conviction rate" he snarled.

"Good to know" Gus sighed, flipping through the stack of case files she had inherited from the latest cop who moved on to Houston or Atlanta or Jefferson Parish or any other place that was paying better. Training was also hellish, it was a lot different running drills in New Orleans summer heat in full gear.

The guys seemed intent on crushing Gus' spirit as quickly as possible. She took every beating they gave her, refusing to back down, determined to prove herself. Gus' battle cry quickly became 'puke and rally'. This did nothing to quell the punishment her fellow officers insisted on doling out. Dumpster diving would have been a treat compared to the calls they sent her out on.

In the span of a few weeks, Gus was called out to multiple robberies turned to homicides, drug turf battles, and domestic violence murder/suicides than she could count. The cases were horrific and sensational: a woman gunned down in her home when she opened the door to someone she thought was seeking medical attention from her husband who ran a free clinic, a young woman who had her throat slit in an upscale neighborhood bar by someone who didn't even know her, a man who decapitated and cooked his girlfriend before hanging himself, an SUV full of teenagers heading to the movies shot up by a drug dealer because one of the teens in the vehicle had given a statement to police a week earlier. One after another, with little break and a mayor who thought it was a good thing because it kept New Orleans in the news. Gus was more than a bit relieved when he decided to not run for governor.

Gus clocked as many hours as they would let her, realizing that other than TB she really didn't have any connections left in town. The few people left that she had spent any time with before the storm had all been in Gage's circle and wanted nothing to do with a plebeian cop. Gus wasn't making many friends on the force by sticking to strict ethical codes and attempting to play somewhat by the book. It drove her new partner crazy that she didn't drink on the clock, even if she drank like a fish off of it.

"What is wrong with you, I thought you were a New Orleans girl?" McCay chastised her as he pulled into Miss Mae's in between calls and she ordered a club soda.

"I am, but that doesn't mean I don't also want to be good at my job" Gus retorted.

"Who says you can't have a double and still be good at your job. You don't do something to numb the shit we are seeing, you are going to get pulled down by it pretty quick" he warned.

"I do plenty of numbing off the clock" she replied, playing with her lime.

"Why the hell did you come back, Broussard?" McCay pressed on. He knew she had consulted with the NOPD as a psychologist before, he wasn't even really shocked she had turned cop, being legacy and all but he couldn't figure out why she had come back here.

"Why the hell not, looks like you boys need somebody to straighten you out" Gus snorted, seriously thinking about giving in to having a drink on the clock.

"Even you ain't that good, sugar" he said, slapping her on the back sending her club soda flying.

* * *

Hot and humid days slipped by in a blur. Hurricane season came, keeping them all on constant alert and turning everyone into an amateur meteorologist. The hotter the days, the meaner the people, so Gus kept herself busy to say the least. She spoke with Stella, who while happy to hear from her, was not entirely accommodating. Gus did however form a deeper friendship than she ever thought possible when telephoning Adam to check up on him and still also kept in contact with Sheldon and Lindsay. Everyone avoided mentioning Flack and Gus could only imagine the worst. He had sent her keys back to her with a short note saying he had already moved his stuff out. Gus struggled on what to do with her place, deciding to not worry about it for a month or two since she was staying with TB for free.

Gus found herself wandering aimlessly around the city on her off days in a daze of disbelief. She felt herself detaching from everything around her, because it was the only way she could process it all. New Orleans had always been a land of extremes, and it was even more apparent now. The rich were rich enough to not care or be effected by anything, the poor were barely surviving. The sliver by the river moved on like nothing had ever happened and bragged about having more restaurants open now than before the storm. The rest of the city struggled to get basic utilities restored and experienced every aspect of red tape from the federal government on down. Desperate was far too mild a word for the city, but Gus felt herself holding out hope. Hope for an upswing, hope for the potential the city held, hope for herself to make a life here again.

Yet as the weeks melted by in the oppressive way that New Orleans summers do, Gus felt herself drowning not only in the heat but also in the reality of the hopelessness that really was surrounding not only the city, but her soul. She missed New York with every ounce of her being. Not just Flack, but god she missed him as though her heart had been ripped from her chest. She also missed her friendships and routine and the full life she had going there. But Gus was acutely aware of burning that bridge and wasn't sure it was repairable.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Angel With a Broken Wing**

Lindsay and Stella sat in a booth at Blue Moon, deep into nachos, margaritas and discussion. "So what it is like being the boss?" Lindsay asked.

"I don't envy Mac one bit, and while I can't wait for him to be back for a variety of reasons, paperwork is definitely high on my list" Stella laughed. "How is Danny doing?" she asked.

Lindsay gave a small smile, "You know, Messer, he is stubborn, not obeying the doctors, driving everyone crazy. I know he can't wait to get back in the lab and field."

"I am sure he will be soon enough, he will be doing crazy stunts before you know it" Stella patted her friend's hand across the table.

"And Adam, I heard he wore you down" Lindsay teased.

"Well, his burns were healed. I wish I could get him to talk to psych, he says he has been talking with Gus, but I can't put that in his file" Stella said sullenly.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Lindsay said, "I miss her, like a lot. And Flack, he has been such a jerk lately."

"Can you blame him?" Stella countered.

"But why didn't he go after her?" Lindsay protested.

"Why did she run away? She could have gotten leave, but she quit, Lindsay. And told Flack she couldn't do it anymore" Stella shrugged.

"Do you think she is happy back in New Orleans, I didn't think she had anything left there?" Lindsay wondered.

"I don't know, Linds, but I don't know what she has here anymore either" Stella glumly stated.

Lindsay looked at her friend in shock, "Stella! Doesn't she still have us, the team, Mac? Wouldn't they take her back, if not on in the field than on psych?"

Stella played with her napkin, "I know Gus needed some time and I would love to have her back here, but I don't know if brass feels the same way and funding got cut to psych. And she can't exactly go back to being partnered with Don now can she?"

"I guess not. I don't know, I still can't believe it, I thought those two were meant to be" Lindsay sounded wistful.

* * *

"Where is ya head man?" Danny said to Flack as he watched his friend miss another basket on the court, "Hawkes let you have that one."

Sheldon narrowed his eyes at the other two as he took a long drink of water. "Whatever" Flack snapped. Sheldon raised his eyebrows, he had a pretty good idea where the detective's head was.

"Well you are acting like it is up your ass" Danny snapped, "and if you aren't gonna go after her like Lindsay and I told you to then maybe you need to move on and get over her."

"That may be easier said than done, Danny" Sheldon spoke up, feeling protective of Gus even if she had left the city.

"Not everyone can be DL forever, Messer" Flack replied, bouncing the ball angrily at Danny's feet.

Danny stood up and squared off with his friend, "Look, I know you are going to do whatever you wanna do, but quit being an asshole, it is starting to get old" and with that he walked off.

Sheldon looked at Flack for a long moment. "Don't give me that, Hawkes, I know you are on her side" Flack growled.

"I am not taking sides, Flack, but I just think you should know that she isn't doing so well there. I don't think she should be there."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Flack questioned angrily.

"Maybe try talking to her. Whatever happened with you two, you still were partners, you know her better than anyone, man" Sheldon replied before following off after Danny.

"Partners, lot of good that did me" Flack snarled, shooting the ball and watching it bounce off the rim.

* * *

TB finally called Gus out as they sat on his porch late one night after Labor Day, "Don't hit me, but I don't think you should be here."

Gus shot him a look as she took a long pull of her drink, "You want me to find new friends, I will."

"Not what I meant, though you haven't exactly been crawling in besties since you got back."

"Why shouldn't I be here?" Gus argued, "I have been here most of my life. And the city needs people."

"But the city is killing you" TB said, moving next to his friend and putting his arm around her. "You look haunted, Gus, it isn't a good look for you. You barely talk to anyone outside of work and when you do, you sound like you have them in interrogation. You have turned cynical and pessimistic and seem like you don't care what happens to you" TB pressed on, gripping on to Gus tighter as she tried to throw him off.

"Maybe because I don't" she muttered, going back to drink.

"You stopped using mixers, sugar, you've stopped eating and you are smoking a variety of things like a chimney" TB stated, pulling her glass away from her, "I think you need to leave before you kill someone."

"I gotta badge" she joked.

"Or yourself. You can still love New Orleans and not live here. You aren't abandoning us, you are better than this and I am not going to watch the city take another one of my friends" TB demanded.

"It is not like I can go back to New York and be like 'just kidding', I handed in my badge by courier, they have cut my old department and I hardly think my partner is going to want me back since we won't be sleeping together anymore" Gus rambled, feeling panic rise in her chest. She knew TB was right, and New York was the one place she had ever felt at home. "Damn it, I messed up" she said hurling her glass at the concrete below.

"Well sugar, hurricane season ain't over yet, maybe you will have an excuse to go back" TB tried to lighten the mood.

"You better get on your knees to Our Lady of Prompt Succor, TB" Gus said with a small smile.

Gus forced herself to breathe as she dialed a New York number. "Daddino" came her Lieutenant's gruff voice.

"Uh, hi, Loo, it's Augusta Broussard."

"Broussard" he growled, "how's swamp life?"

"You want the truth?" Gus twirled her hair around her finger.

"Isn't that what you usually give?" Daddino replied, catching something in her tone that softened him a bit.

"It sucks" Gus stated plainly.

"Well it sucked being suddenly without one of my best homicide detectives and with her partner suddenly turning into the department asshole" Daddino pointed out.

Gus sighed, "I had that coming"

Daddino heaved a sigh, "That and a whole lot more. You bailed without warning, Broussard, you sent your badge and gun to me in a box. I knew you were heading for a meltdown, but you could have gotten a leave with no problem, taken a normal vacation, maybe even with your partner boyfriend, kept everyone happy. But that isn't what you decided to do now, was it?"

"No, sir, it wasn't" Gus squeaked, feeling like there was no hope.

"Do you seriously think I can just hand you your job back? Even if you hadn't pissed of Gerrard before you left? Even if you hadn't caused irreparable harm to you partnership?"

The phrase irreparable harm caught Gus in the gut and echoed in her head, she had, there was no hope, no change, she tried to choke back sobs, "I'm sorry, Loo, you are right, I shouldn't have even called. I made my bed, I'll learn to lie in it."

Daddino remained silent long enough for Gus to think he had hung up. Sobs escaped her throat as she slid down the wall she had been leaning on. Daddino heard Gus' anguish clearly over the line, "Hold up, Broussard, let me see what I can do, there has to be some department that will take you."

"Thanks, Loo, really" Gus said, her voice heavy with tears.

"Was that good or bad?" TB asked from the other room.

"I'm not sure" Gus replied, blowing her nose, "he is going to see what he can do. With my luck, I'll be making coffee for some political machine."

"But you'll be doing it in New York" TB smiled at his friend.

"Glad you seem so happy" Gus said jokingly, though she was serious.

"That shrink you recommended is fabulous, they make wonderful prescription medicines these days, I suggest you try some," TB teased.

Gus' reply was a pillow thrown at him.


	2. Any Little Bit

**Chapter 5: Listen to What I Say**

Two weeks later, Gus was crammed on a plane headed back "home." She didn't care that the world's largest man who hadn't taken a shower this century was her seat mate, nor did she care that there was a baby crying directly behind her because she was headed back to New York, with a job. Mind you that job involved a pay cut and was working with the movie unit on a probationary period, but she was getting her badge back. Gus could only hope she could get some semblance of her life back.

Touching down at JFK, Gus sped off the plane and waited impatiently for her bag, catching sight of a familiar face in the crowd. Brown eyes met hers and a smile spread across both there faces, "Shel!" she called rushing over to him.

"Lindsay was going to come, but she got called out" he said after giving Gus a quick hug, "That's all you got?" he said pointing at her one medium suitcase.

"I travel light" Gus volleyed back.

"So how are things?" Sheldon asked carefully once they were in the department SUV.

"Er, um, I'm not sure" Gus finally stumbled out, "I feel like I had the worst and costliest summer vacation ever."

Sheldon laughed, "Well, we are glad you are back, even if you are being shipped off to Siberia."

"Supposedly it is temporary, I hope so" Gus responded with an eye roll as they pulled up to her building.

Sheldon saw Gus' face change, storm clouds passing across her eyes, "You want me to come up?"

"I'm a big girl, I'll be good. I'll see you tomorrow" Gus called slipping out of the car.

Gus let herself into her apartment. It smelled stale and closed up, though she had a cleaning service come in to at least knock down the dust before she got back. The air seemed heavy and matched her mood as she looked around. Mail was piled high on the table, Mrs. Potter more than happy to have brought it in. The living room seemed huge with no couch in it and her book cases looked liked a mouth with missing teeth with Flack's items removed. Sighing she decided to just change into pajamas and head to bed early. Stopping in her doorway, sobs once again racked her body as she realized she didn't have a bed or a bed partner anymore.

* * *

Gus stared up at 1PP feeling about as lost as she had two years ago, but at least having some clue as to where she was going this time. Of course she wasn't going to get the same warm welcome she did back then, but at least she was back.

Gus checked in with her new lieutenant, who gave Gus her gun and credentials back with little fanfare as he handed out her assignment. "No uniform?" Gus asked with great relief.

"Nope, have you listed as on leave, you didn't loose rank or time. Plus you were working with the NOPD, weren't you?" the lieutenant asked.

Gus nodded, happy to still be on an upward career track, but also confused by the news. As far as she had heard from Stella and Daddino, Gus had quit and was listed as a re-hire. Had someone pulled strings? It couldn't have been Mac, he had been in London and still was.

"Did you get swamp water in your ears or something, Broussard?" her lieutenant snapped.

"Sorry, sir" Gus said, bringing herself back into the real world.

"Whatever. Just so you know, you don't get the perks of a partner over here in the Unit" he smirked. Gus felt her blood boil, but she should have known there would be more than a few comments made. Hell, considering there had been such a wide pool on her and Flack, Gus could only assume that news of her bolting and Flack moving out had reached just as wide.

"Probably put it in a damn news bulletin" Gus muttered as she stormed out of the office.

Gus was signing the cruiser back in at the end of her shift when she ran into one of her least favorite homicide detectives. "You leave homicide just to be able to drive?" Thatcher joked.

"Thatcher, Lafferty" Gus nodded at each of the detectives with her head high and her shoulders squared.

"See, this is what happens when a woman always has to wear the pants. Especially when she should be in a skirt," Lafferty leered at her and added, "on her back."

"I see you didn't get a personality transplant over the summer, Laff" Gus said, attempting to remain calm.

"Yeah, well I am shocked you managed to get a tan down there in the swamp, but you still look a little yellow to me", Lafferty snapped getting up in Gus' face.

Gus yelled right back, "screw you, Lafferty."

"Well what do you expect Broussard, you turned tail and ran. No better than the coward cops in your precious New Orleans" Lafferty hissed at her.

Gus was about to come out swinging, but Thatcher held her back, "Let it go Broussard. Tommy, knock it the hell off" he said stepping between them.

"Sure stick up for her, ain't like I am your partner or anything" Lafferty spat out, stressing on the word partner. Gus bristled, but held herself back. "Have fun not being a real cop with the movie stars" Lafferty dug in again.

Gus closed her eyes and mumbled, "I gotta go." Turning back briefly, Gus called, "Nice see you Thatcher. Go to hell Lafferty."

Gus walked away from the precinct, trying to keep her face blank and her emotions on lock down. Gus wondered if she had made yet another mistake in even coming back.

Gus had only taken a handful of steps away from the building when she heard someone calling after her, "Hey Broussard, ya think ya can sneak out ya first day back without comin' by the lab?"

Gus turned with a fake smile plastered on her face and sadness gripping her heart. "Hi Danny" she chipped, not moving any closer, "You're looking well."

"Well, I'm looking well?" Danny exclaimed mockingly, "You actin' all fancy since you got put on the Unit?"

"Hardly" Gus snorted, "though it is better than getting stuck on crossing guard duty with SSTU."

Gus relaxed slightly with her remark, but stiffened again when Danny's expression turned serious, "Really Gus, how are ya doing?"

Gus made a slight face, "It's been a rough couple of months."

"Tell me about it" Danny laughed.

"How are you doing, Danny?" Gus asked, her face full of concern.

"Surviving, can't wait to get back in the field. Being stuck in the lab is killin' me, but whatcha gonna do?" Danny shrugged it off.

"The PT's giving you a hard time?"

"PT's, OT's, Every t's. I don't know how Flack managed it," Danny quipped and then seeing the look on Gus' face had the urge to reel the words back in.

They stood in awkward silence for a long beat when Gus saw the exact reason for their silence step out of the precinct looking for his friend. Danny's back was turned away from the tall approaching figure. Gus made her face blank and turned to hail a passing cab. "I gotta go, Messer. See you around" she called hurriedly, sliding into the cab.

Danny shook his head, wondering why the sudden departure, "Good talking to you, Broussard" he joked and held up a palm to the cab. In doing so he caught sight of Flack. "Oh" Danny said knowingly.

"So she is back" Flack said following the cab with his eyes but not his head, his jaw tight. Danny nodded, but didn't say anything. Flack gave a slight tilt to his head and squared his shoulders.

"I take it you haven't talked to her?" Danny remarked.

"Not since she told me it was over."

"Is it?"

"I'm too old for games, Dan-o."

"Sure she was playing them, Don? I mean, Gus has had more than a little to deal with the past coupla years."

"Whose side are ya on?"

"Didn't know we were having to pick" Danny snapped.

Flack felt beat down, a feeling that he had felt many times the past couple of months, "This is what she wanted. I'm done" Flack replied with finality.

"If ya sure."

"I'm sure."

"Okay then, let's go get a beer" Danny said walking off.

Gus was attempting to relax through yoga and failing miserably in her seemingly half empty apartment later that evening when a knock sounded at her door. Annoyed at how whoever it was got in to the building, Gus unfolded her self and answered the door to a stern looking Stella. "Stella, uh, hi" Gus said leaning against the door frame and wiping sweat from her face.

"Uh, hi?! I manage to not only not get you fired but placed out on leave and you don't even come by the lab on your first day back? A lab which, I might add, I had to put back together without the assistance of your globe trotting uncle" Stella remarked pushing her way into Gus' apartment.

Gus took a deep breath, "it was you?"

Stella all but rolled her eyes at the younger woman, "Yes it was me. I wasn't about to let you through your career away because you had to go blow off some steam or whatever it was you had to do. Are you done with that by the way?"

Gus could do little more than nod, her eyes following Stella who made her way to the living room like she was about to sit down on a couch that wasn't there. Stella shot Gus a curious look as Gus chewed on her lip, "Flack's" she said softly.

"Well you managed to make him into even more of a rough around the edges cop than usual and get him into his own apartment where he was to pay actual rent" Stella said with a smile, trying to discern what was going on in her friend's head.

"Kudos to me, not what I was really trying for though" Gus articulated.

"What were you trying to do?" Stella questioned.

"You got me" Gus shrugged, "trying to figure out where I belong, I guess."

"And that is here?"

"Couch less and bed less and stuck with prima donnas on the movie unit, but yeah, here" Gus rushed out.

"Have you talked to Mac lately?" Stella asked with caution.

Gus shook her head, "Can't say I really wanted that lecture."

"You deserve it, and then some kiddo" Stella's reply was firm but caring.

Gus felt her eyes swimming with tears, "Believe me, I know I do."

Stella felt some of her resolve crumble, no matter what she had planned to tell Gus this evening, she was now certain Gus had said it to herself with much more venom than Stella could ever muster. The girl looked like she had been to hell, and judging by the open bottle on the coffee table, still wasn't quite back yet. "You should call him, I am certain he is worried about you. He does care about you, Gus, we all do" Stella moved in and patted Gus on the arm.

"Almost all" Gus whispered so low that Stella did not catch the words, though she did catch the meaning.

"Maybe you just needed some time" Stella intoned.

"And space. Got that now, didn't I?" Gus' voice wavered.

"Why don't you stop by the lab tomorrow, I know a lot of people want to see you" Stella said, heading back toward the door.

Gus nodded, "If I don't get stuck out bringing coffee to some over paid actor" she said opening the door.

"Take care of yourself, Gus" Stella replied before she stepped out into the hallway.

"What for?" Gus asked to her empty apartment as she headed back to her glass.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Wearing Bones**

Unable to even think about sleep with sad thoughts haunting her heart and soul, Gus punched in a long stream of numbers into the phone on her desk, the covers on the daybed not yet disturbed. "Who is this?" she heard a gruff but alert voice snap.

Gus took a long intake of breath, "Damn, Uncle Mac, I'm sorry, I forgot about the time change."

"Gussie?" Mac questioned, wiping his face, happy that his second middle of the night call was from someone he knew, "Where are you?"

"Back in New York" Gus replied, suddenly feeling unsure of her call and calculating it was nearing 6am in London.

"Heard you did a runner" Mac replied, sitting on the edge of the bed in the hotel room.

"So did you" Gus quipped back, pain creeping into her voice.

"I took official leave, Gus, a little different. From what Stella told me, you are lucky the NYPD even took you back" Mac chastised.

"Took me back right into the movie and tv unit" Gus sighed.

Mac had to suppress a chuckle, served her right, "How is that going?"

"Better than New Orleans" Gus remarked, her voice heavy with despair.

Mac recognized the tone, knowing that Gus was slipping back into the hole he thought she had climbed out of, "How are you holding up, Gussie?" Mac asked finally.

"I've been better, no shock there. I really screwed up this time, didn't I?"

"You certainly aren't winning many brownie points, but you got your badge back, didn't you? And things will get better, just give it time" Mac remarked, unsure of whether he should lecture or comfort his niece, "and lay off the liquor" he added.

Gus stared at the glass beside her, how did he always know. "How is London treating you?" she asked, changing the subject.

"London is interesting to say the least" Mac answered without revealing much information.

"When you coming back?" Gus questioned, suddenly missing her uncle more than she had all summer.

"I see, you don't call all summer and now you want to know when I am coming back?" Mac teased but his voice seemed strained, "Soon probably, I am running out of leave time."

"You sound tired Mac, I'll let you go" Gus said, not knowing what to say next.

"Get some sleep yourself, kid" Mac said hanging up with a shake of his head.

Gus did not heed Mac's advice and stumbled into the precinct the next morning sucking down the largest black coffee known to mankind. Her phone rang immediately as she entered on the way to check out that day's celeb-stalker assignment. "Broussard."

"Broussard, get your ass to my office now" Daddino yelled.

"Loo, you ain't even my loo now, what could I have possibly done to piss you off?" Gus winced back.

"Just get in my damn office, I know you are in the building!" Daddino yelled again.

"Can't wait!" Gus dripped and turned toward homicide.

Daddino was waiting against his door frame giving death stares to the few detectives in the pit. "Sit down and shut up!" he roared as Gus approached the doorway with eyes straight ahead and praying Flack was not in the pit. She complied as Daddino slammed the door shut and turned the blinds closed.

"Time for my departmental beat down?" Gus joked with her voice flat.

"I told ya to shut it!" Daddino said, sitting on the front of his desk and looming over Gus. She gulped and remained quiet. "How many hours did you clock in New Orleans?" Daddino asked, leaning back slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Gus shrugged and stared at her lap, "I dunno, a lot."

"Over 1,300 in 12 weeks" Daddino replied, grabbing a file on his desk, "you are listed on the records of 23 homicides, 7 rapes and 44 assaults."

"I got yanked from the 2nd to the 6th, what do you want me to say? And more importantly why are you telling me this?" Gus was beyond confused.

"Because you didn't even flinch when a guy cooked his girlfriend's head in a pot or when a 26 year old got her throat slit in a bar by a stranger or when you took down a known drug dealing murder without backup! Because there is something not right with you, Broussard!" Daddino leaned down toward her, as Gus slowly moved her eyes up to meet his.

"How do you even know this?" Gus asked quietly, remaining impassive.

"Because I requested your file and talked to your Loo there and your partner. They were both impressed and scared by you" Daddino moved to the seat beside Gus.

"I compartmentalized. What do you want me to say, Tony? It was a shit job and someone had to do it, god knows no one was clamoring for the job," Gus' voice was steel.

"Except you. You left here for there" Daddino pointed out, poking a finger toward her badge.

"Yes, I did, and I think you have just verified I got my punishment there and now I am getting it here" Gus went to stand, "now if you are done reviewing my gruesome summer that I would like to forget, I am certain some spoiled starlet is waiting on my to escort her from her trailer."

Daddino stood with her and pushed Gus back into the chair, "You ain't going anywhere Broussard. I am not going to loose you to the frigging' unit. I need you here in homicide" Daddino said with more than a bit of authority.

Gus curled her lip, "I am assigned to the unit."

"No, you aren't. First off, it was a test to see if you were really willing to come back to the department no matter what. Secondly, you don't play well with celebrities. Thirdly, you are are damn good detective and I ain't gonna see you throw that away while you have your little identity crisis or whatever the hell it is that you are having" Daddino ticked the points off on one hand while still pinning Gus down in her chair.

Gus looked at at Daddino, her eyes cold, "Have you talked to any of the guys about this, I am not sure they really want me back in the pit. Lafferty made that more than a little clear yesterday."

"Screw Lafferty, he can barely close a case with a full confession these days" Daddino sneered.

Gus closed her eyes for a second and opened them saying, "I am sure you have heard the rumors, well truth actually."

Daddino smirked, "About you and junior? Wouldn't need to hear anything, he has been a royal jackass the past couple of months, great for interrogation though. Besides, since when do you let a few rumors hold you back?"

"Well just who the hell am I supposed to partner with then?" Gus snapped.

"No one for now, you need to get your head straight but Brass is whining about our unsolved rate, so I am sticking you on cold case duty for a while. And you need to go through a full eval and workup," Daddino threw the last sentence out there and waited for the explosion.

"You are sending me to the shrinks?" Gus seethed.

"Hey now, I thought they were psychologists" Daddino joked.

"How is that supposed to help anybody, like I don't know how to play the game, I have the same degree as them for god's sake" Gus snarled.

"Which is why I am sending you to a contract shrink, works with the feds, off site, figured it would be best for everyone that way" Daddino tapped Gus on the head with the file he had sent up from New Orleans.

"I'm not crazy, Tony" Gus protested.

"I know, but you ever think that maybe you got a lot of shit to sort though instead of 'compartmentalizing'?" Daddino pointed out as he walked to the door.

"Don't condescend me, Loo" Gus snipped.

"I ain't, now get your ass over to the lab, there are some cases Stella pulled for you" Daddino said opening the door.

"Thanks, Loo, great chatting with you" Gus remarked as she stepped out into the pit without looking.

"1300 hours, Broussard, Jesus!" Daddino called after her.

"What do you think that was about?" Montgomery asked Parker from his desk.

"She clocked 1300 hours in 12 weeks down in New Orleans" Parker replied, slightly in awe.

"That must be some nice overtime" Montgomery whistled.

"I don't think it was about the money" Parker said, chewing on his cheek and looking over at Flack who was deep in his paperwork.

"She must be out of her frigging' mind then. You always like 'em crazy, Flack?" Montgomery asked. Flack gave a low growl and shot Montgomery an icy stare.

"I would shut up now, kid" Parker suggested.

"Fine, I just sure as hell hope I don't get partnered with her" Montgomery quipped.

* * *

**Chapter 7: I Know It Shows**

Gus made her way to the crime lab with a sense of dread, not knowing what kind of reception she would receive.

Luckily, the first face she saw was that of Lindsay's and her friend gave her a wide smile and pulled her into a hug, "Sorry I couldn't meet you at the airport, things have been crazy with Mac gone and Danny stuck in the lab."

"Its okay" Gus said pulling away from her friend, "I like the haircut" she said motioning to Lindsay's new bob.

"Yeah, well I felt like I needed a change" Lindsay ran her hands through it.

"So you are telling me all I had to do was get my hair cut?!" Gus exclaimed with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Lindsay studied her friend carefully, noticing she looked exhausted and haunted. "How are you doing, Gus?" Lindsay asked with great concern.

"I'll be fine, always-" Gus was cut off by a high pitch scream and a flying tackle hug. "Gagh" Gus said into the figure that had enveloped her, "Adam, what the hell?" she said extracting herself.

"Sorry, I just didn't realize how much I missed you around here until just now and I really could have used you instead of those other departmental guys when I had to go for my eval and-" Adam babbled until Lindsay shot him a look. "Sorry, I just, wow it's great to see you, Gus" he said a little more reserved, "you look..." he trailed off not knowing what to say.

"Worn out, beat down, haunted?" Gus supplied with a hint of an amused smile.

"We could go with that" Adam retorted.

"I need a coffee" Gus said with a shake of her head and going into the canteen. Adam followed behind looking like a puppy. "Can I help you, Adam? And please not another tackle hug, I think you bruised my clavicle" Gus punched the button for a fake cappuccino on the machine.

"I just wanted to thank you for taking all my phone calls. I know you were dealing with a lot of stuff down in New Orleans but I didn't really know who else to call. Lindsay was like Danny's warden and I didn't want Stella to think less of me and no one else really got what I was going through, I mean maybe Don would have but I just..." Adam trailed off, "I am babbling again" he said slouching at a table.

Gus sat down across from him and slid a second coffee in his direction, "Adam, listen to me, I am glad you called. I wasn't so sure anyone back here would even still speak to me and I know I was supposed to be helping you, but you were as much as a lifeline to me, alright? And you went through one hell of an ordeal, there was nothing wrong with your reaction, your nightmares, or any of that. You hear me? And just because I am back and you have been cleared doesn't mean you can't call me day or night" Gus said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Adam nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable, it had been hard to call on Gus knowing she was dealing with her own things, but the nightmares and day terrors and jumping at every loud noise had caused him to think he was loosing his mind and Gus got that and talked to him like he wasn't crazy.

"Um, Adam, who is the high class blond currently looking at me like she hopes I choke on my own tongue?" Gus asked pointing to the gorgeous and trim young woman staring into the canteen.

Adam turned his head, blushed and gave the woman a small wave, "that's, um, Kendall."

"Intern?" Gus asked with raised eyebrows.

"New lab tech" Adam said sheepishly.

"Adam, way to go and move on up in the world" Gus teased with a laugh.

"Oh no, we aren't..." Adam turned nearly purple.

"Judging by the look she gave me, I would say not yet" Gus snickered, "now get out there." Gus waved Adam off and watched him go out to talk to the new lab tech. As she watched the flirting that ensued, Gus felt her heart clench for what seemed like the millionth time.

"Did you notice the new vending machines?" came the question to snap Gus back to reality.

"Oh hey, Shel. Yeah, for once machines not full of junk" Gus pointed at the new sandwich machine.

"Yeah, Stella went on a rampage with the rebuilding allocation" Sheldon smiled at Gus, but his eyes held questions.

"I'm fine, Sheldon, really. Or I will be" Gus said, picking up on his worry.

Sheldon nodded hesitantly, "Well you know I am here if you need me. Now I think Stella was looking for you" he said gesturing out to the hallway.

"Thanks. Hey maybe we can do lunch or something soon?"

"Sounds great" Sheldon said, still worried about his friend and her return from whatever horrors she had been through.

Gus found Stella in her office, seated behind the desk with a mound of files. "Gus, heard you talked to Daddino" Stella said as Gus stood hesitantly in front of the desk.

"Talked could be a word for it" Gus laughed nervously.

"So he told you the deal?" Stella asked, motioning for Gus to sit down.

"The deal about people thinking I am crazy or the deal about torturing me by putting me back in homicide?" Gus quipped.

Stella stared at her for a long moment, "No one thinks you are crazy. Rash, confused, headstrong and thoughtless but not crazy."

"Lay it all out there for me, why don't you Stel?" Gus tittered.

"Anyway" Stella said, pushing a stack of files toward Gus, "I figured sticking with the unit would be more torturous for you and seeing as Mac keeps extending his little vacation, I could use the help. If you are up for it?" Stella drummed her fingers on the desk.

"I think I could be up for it. What is up with Mac anyway? I thought he was only supposed to be gone for a couple of weeks" Gus pondered.

Stella sighed and blew curls out of her face, "He had a lot of leave time. And he got more granted because of the condemnation."

"Because of the raid?" Gus started flipping through the stack of files Stella had shoved her way.

"Yep, he got more leave time. We all did. Part of how I convinced them to not fire you" Stella shot Gus a knowing look.

Gus returned the look with one of gratitude and pain, "Stella, I don't know what to say. I know I should have been fired and I know I have screwed up and I don't know how to make anything right" Gus voice cracked and her eyes welled up.

"Just do your job and do it well and don't try to force anything else right now. For the most part, I think everyone is glad you are back" Stella shrugged.

"Except Flack" Gus sniffed.

"You can't really expect him to just ignore what happened, can you kid?" Stella said, trying to keep the edge for her voice, "but I know he is glad you are safe."

Gus nodded, wiped her face and then gestured to the stack, "Evidence for these around here or in the locker?"

Stella knew she was being shut out, "Depends on the case. Less than a year old, up here. If you need anything, you know where to find me."

Gus nodded and turned before walking out, "Thanks for everything, Stella."

Stella continued to try to plow through some of the paperwork and cursed Mac yet again for being gone so long. Even with hiring a couple of new techs, with Danny and Adam on half capacity and Lindsay acting preoccupied, Stella had felt more than a little shorthanded. And now she was trying to figure out what was going on with Gus on top of everything else. "Vacation or not, I need to talk with you, Boss Man," she lamented while dialing Mac's hotel. "Mac Taylor please, I believe it is room 416."

"I'm sorry madam, but Mr. Taylor checked out this morning" a clipped voice informed a confused Stella.

"Are you sure about that? Detective Mac Taylor from New York?" Stella questioned, her voice on edge.

"Yes, our records indicate he checked out at 10:23 and did not leave any forwarding information. Sorry to not be of more assistance" the voice said before hanging up. Stella looked at the receiver in disbelief. Hopefully Mac was either on his way home or would call to check in.

* * *

Gus wiled away the next few days sorting through the cold cases that had been assigned to her. She took comfort in the fact that she could thus spend a lot of time hiding either in the crime lab or in the evidence locker and had successfully avoiding anything more than the occasional sighting of a certain tall blue-eyed detective. Gus was also forced into meeting with the contract psychiatrist despite trying to avoid making an appointment with all her might.

"Your resistance to meeting with me tells me a lot about your personality" Dr. Lyons remarked when Gus called to cancel yet again.

"Put your ink blots away, Doc" Gus responded with a roll of her eyes, "I'll see you this afternoon."

Gus attended her appointment with more than a small chip on her shoulder. "Do you think you need to be here, Detective?" Christopher Lyons asked, leaning forward on his knees and forming his finger into a steeple.

Gus snorted, "Oh don't give me that 'I am pretending to be intrigued' posture, Doc. I have to be here because the brass says so. Yeah, I probably should be here and no I don't want to be here. But I am aware that even a synopsis of my file could make anyone in the mental health profession start readying their prescription pad."

"I want you to think of this not as a mandatory sentence, but rather as your time. I cannot force you to talk or work on your issues. However it might be beneficial for you to view this as an opportunity to use my expertise", Dr. Lyons volleyed back.

"Ah the standard mandated client flip. Been there done, that" Gus yawned, she then peered over at the notes Dr. Lyons was taking, "What's wrong, doc? Memory too short to last fifty minutes?" she closed her eyes and put her fingers to her temples, "Let me guess...client resistant to process, hostile towards clinician, uses humor to distract from feelings, shows tendencies toward aggressive behaviors and poor judgment skills." Gus opened her eyes and stared Lyons down.

"What I am hearing is that you feel a lack of control over what may be said about you in my note taking and-"

Gus cut Lyons off with a screech, "Cut the bullshit, please, and the shop talk. I know I went off the deep end, I know I made crap choices and I know I have a long road ahead of me, but I have been through this before and I would like to focus on my current problems instead of walking down a particularly crappy memory lane with you" Gus heaved a sigh, slumped back in her chair and closed her eyes.

"Tell me more about these current problems" Lyons urged Gus on.

She suppressed another shriek and chewed on her lip, "The cop in me says I should probably talk about the shit going down in New Orleans. The girl in me wants to talk about running the only person I have ever loved off" Gus grabbed a pillow from the chair next to her and hugged it to her chest. The small growl that emitted from her as Lyons went to make another annotation was enough to make Lyons cap his pen for the rest of the session.

"Margarita night is much better therapy" Gus moaned to Lindsay later that week.

"If only you could convince brass to mandate that instead" Lindsay laughed into the phone.

"You up for one? Maybe tomorrow night?" Gus inquired.

Lindsay stammered, "I would love to Gus, really I would but I sort of already made plans and-"

Gus cut her off, "Danny, huh? Linds, it is fine, I'm a big girl, I can find something else to do."

"Are you sure? We should get together soon, have a girl's night. I could come over" Lindsay suggested.

"I'll get back to you after a buy a new couch" Gus mumbled.

"Look, I hate to hang up on you so quick, but I just got some results back I need to look over" Lindsay said, not meaning to rush Gus off the phone, but also not able to ignore Danny standing over the desk with a piece of paper and a wicked grin.

"Talk to you later" Gus sighed hanging up and then dialing Stella. "Hey Stel."

"Gus, how are the cold cases coming?" Stella asked, all business due to the constant calls from higher ups.

"They are coming, I've got a couple of leads on a few of them, but it really isn't a one person job you know" Gus pointed out.

Stella sighed, "I know, but we are short handed as it is. If you can get anyone from homicide to volunteer, have at it, but I am stretched."

Gus agreed, but knew that would require leaving the safety of her hiding place in one of the old storage rooms in the lab and actually heading in to the pit, "Don't suppose you are up for margarita night tomorrow? I asked Lindsay but she had plans."

Stella's tone was defeated, "I wish I could, I really wish I could, but I am swamped. I have four cases going to trial and more paperwork than I ever thought possible and trying to figure out when Mac is coming back. You don't know anything about that, do you?"

Gus wrinkled her nose, "Can't say I do, but if I hear anything, I will let you know."

"Do that, would you. Listen I gotta go I got-"

Gus cut her off, "Things, yeah, I know. Bye Stella." Gus dropped her head to the table top she had been using as a desk with a louder crack than she had expected, "Dammit!" she yowled, rubbing her forehead.

"Gus?" a hesitant voice asked from the doorway, "What are you doing in here?"

"Getting a goose-egg it would appear" Gus replied rubbing her head, "and hiding."

"Hiding?" Sheldon questioned stepping into the closet size room. Gus shot him a look. "Oh" Sheldon looked away, "you need some ice?"

Gus tentatively felt the welt, "Nah, I'll be fine. Could use a drink though. And some friends who don't suddenly have lives."

Sheldon broke out in a smile, "I know what you mean, I was trying to get a poker game together and everyone bailed."

"Aren't we the paragons of popularity?" Gus drolled.

"Speak for yourself" Sheldon chided.

"Oh I am, don't worry" Gus glowered.

Sheldon hated seeing his friend so depressed and stepped in with, "Why don't we check out Sully's tomorrow after shift?"

"If you don't mind hanging out with the precinct nut job" Gus replied sullenly.

Sheldon shook his head as he walked out, "I'll see you there after shift tomorrow. And get some ice on that head."

* * *

**Chapter 8: Any Little Bit**

Gus found herself at Sullivan's waiting on Sheldon who had been stuck in the lab finishing up a case file and had waved her ahead. She had thought about going back to the closet she was using as an office, but her eyes already felt like they were bleeding. She had managed to close one cold case, pleasing Stella and keeping Daddino off her back about her avoidance of the homicide pit; but overall Gus was dissatisfied with the tediousness of cases gone cold. After a chat with TB over the phone and with the bartender at Sully's, Gus gave in and started drinking alone. This act seemed so much more desperate in public than it did in the privacy of her apartment. She was a couple of drinks in by the time Sheldon showed up.

"Hey, sorry I took so long" he waved the bartender over, "wanna split a pitcher?"

"Not unless it is of liquor" Gus retorted, pointed at her near empty glass.

"Gotcha. Rough day?" Sheldon asked after getting his own drink.

"In actuality no, just boring" Gus sighed. "Cold cases will do that to you"

Sheldon patted her on the arm, "how is the head?"

Gus smiled wryly, "You know me, hardest head on the team."

Sheldon laughed at this, "I don't know, you have pretty stiff competition out there."

"I did, but then Danny and Mac went all soft" Gus joked back.

"I don't know if I would use the word soft, perhaps they just found some worthy companionship?" Sheldon questioned.

Gus raised her eyebrows, knocked back her drink and motioned for another, "I am refraining from answering. There's a free table, wanna shoot some pool?"

"Are you going to beat me as bad as last time?" Sheldon muttered.

"I heard that and probably" Gus said sashaying off.

But Gus didn't. After sinking the eight ball well before its time for a third straight game, Gus sighed and took another shot of whiskey. "Jack on the hot" she called to the passing server.

"Is it your drinking or is your head just not in the game?" Sheldon asked with a worrisome expression.

"Drinking usually improves my game, can't think about shots as much" Gus said with a wry smile. Sheldon remained quiet and worked on racking up the balls for another game. Gus knew he was waiting for her to speak again, so after a long pause and a deep breath she said, "It's just...Danny and Lindsay, Adam and Kendall, Mac and Peyton...there are couples everywhere it seems. And maybe I threw away my only chance at it." Sheldon bit back a laugh, his chortle causing Gus to exclaim, "what are you seeing someone now too?"

Sheldon sniffed, "Sort of, trying to get my schedule to match up with a new attending at Mercy but-"

Gus cut him off, "See, see what did I say? Everyone but me. And maybe Stella. And Don," Gus' eyes grew wide and panicked, "They aren't, they haven't. Oh my god...I have ruined my life."

Sheldon moved in front of Gus, who looked near hyperventilating, and gripped her shoulders. "Look at me Gus." Gus complied to Sheldon's order. "Stella and Flack are not together. And you did not ruin your life. Have you even talked to him since you have been back?" Sheldon asked sternly. Gus slowly shook her head. "Maybe you should" Sheldon said with finality, handing her another shot and her cue. "Now drink up and it's your turn to break."

Gus took yet another shot of whiskey and lined up behind the cue ball trying to not think of Flack with anybody else. Trying to not think of his expression when she left or his tone when she talked to him last. Anger and frustration welled up inside of her as she took the shot. Both Gus and Sheldon watched as the cue ball sailed over the pool table and rolled across the floor at Sullivan's. "Aw, hell" Gus exclaimed and went to go fetch it.

"Dammit!" Gus swore as she crawled under a table hoping to retrieve the cue ball and trying to not thinking about what fluids she might now be covered with.

"Looking for this?" came a cavalier voice from above. A hand appeared in front of Gus' face holding the cue ball. Gus looked from the hand to the smirk on the speaker's face to the very familiar blue eyes and prayed for the ground to swallow her right that second.

"Er, thanks" she stuttered, attempting to crawl out as ladylike as possible and banging her head on the underside of the table.

"Good to know you didn't loose your gracefulness down there in New Orleans" Flack replied, still smirking.

Gus pulled herself to standing and took the cue ball from his hand, "Of all the gin joints" she muttered under her breath, "Flack" she said louder with a nod of her head.

He looked at her oddly for a moment, "Broussard" he replied, the smirk leaving his face.

Gus was caught between wanting to run away and wanting to pull Flack to her and start begging. "You look good" Gus finally spluttered out and immediately wanted to disappear.

"You look tired" Flack replied, looking her up and down and not really sure of his footing.

"Long summer" she shrugged.

"Was around here, too" Flack bit back.

Sheldon watched from beside the pool table, unsure if he should interject, but pretty sure Gus could more than hold her own. He just wished both of them would stop being so stubborn. And stupid.

"Well good seeing you" Gus said, not able to look at Flack again.

"Gus, wait!" Flack protested, catching hold of Gus' wrist.

She thought about trying to break free from his grasp, but she caught Sheldon's gaze and instead turned into Flack and looked at him. "What, Flack?" she asked.

"Wanna sit and have a drink, talk?" Flack said, swallowing and looking at her seriously.

Gus hesitated but finally came out with, "fine, but let me just let Sheldon know."

Gus walked over to where Sheldon was standing, playing on his Blackberry. "Shel, is it alright if I...?" Gus trailed off and made a small gesture.

"Please, go ahead" Sheldon exclaimed and then looking at his phone, "My attending just got off" he flashed Gus a smile and raised eyebrows.

"Have a good night, Shel. And thanks" Gus said, giving her friend a huge squeeze.

"Can't breathe" Sheldon joked and waved to Flack before leaving Sully's.

"So" Gus said, sliding into the booth across from Flack.

"So" he echoed, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"How's life?" Gus squeaked and then started choking.

Flack looked at her strangely and waited until she had knocked back a good portion of the vodka tonic that was in front of her. "Life is life" he said, his voice icy.

Gus slumped in her seat and dropped her head to the table. "I hate this, Don," she mumbled into the wood.

"Can't say I am a big fan either, sun- Gus" Flack said, steeling himself from slipping back into nicknames and trying to ignore the flood of emotions rushing through him. Gus raised her head and studied Flack for a long moment.

Finally she squared her shoulders and decided to just go for it. "I screwed up. I know that. And I was wrong. About everything. I belong here, not there and I didn't get that until I went back and I'm sorry, it was just - everything - at once! I didn't know what to do and I didn't want to hurt you. But of course that is exactly what I did" the words gushed forth in a wave.

Flack took them in, but didn't know how to respond other than, "Yeah, you hurt me pretty good. And yourself. But what's done is done, what we do know is pick up the pieces, and move on."

Gus felt like she had been shot in both the heart and the stomach, "Move on. Right" she whispered.

Flack rubbed his neck, "It hasn't been easy for me either" he said quietly.

"I didn't figure it had been. I know I can't ask you to forget, but I can ask you to forgive me at some point" Gus said, and put her hand up as Flack started to interrupt, "and I by no means think that time is now. But I am back now and I am working in homicide and despite my best intentions, I can't hide in the storage closet in the lab forever. And even though I am on cold cases now, at some point we will be working together again and I want to figure out how we can do that and it not seem so damn weird" Gus finished, looking spent.

"We'll just do it" Flack replied.

"Just do it? What is this a Nike ad?" Gus was dumbfounded, and wondering if this was only a big deal to her. Maybe Flack had just gotten over it, over her and it was as though it had never had happened.

"Despite your actions at the beginning of the summer, we are both adults. And are good cops who care about their careers. Plus we are all on the same team. A team that Mac Taylor won't have any weak links. Might seem weird from time to time, but we will get over it. Not to mention that fact that I like having you in my life, Gus. You are still a good friend, even if that is all you can handle" Flack playing with his glass for a moment before draining it.

"Is this a truce then?" Gus chewed on her lip.

"Wasn't aware we needed one" Flack looked at her carefully and then added, "Storage closet?."

Gus gave a small laugh and nodded. "Betcha Danny is pissed about that" Flack joked.

"Why? Oh, oh!" Gus exclaimed and then caught Flack's gaze and then started blushing furiously.

"You still got a desk in homicide. A dusty one, but a desk all the same" Flack said and then checking his watch, "I gotta go, but I'll see you around." Gus looked up at him, not knowing what to say, but knowing she didn't like the thought of him leaving, especially since she bet he was meeting a date. "Take care, sunshine" Flack said, squeezing her briefly on the table while dropping cash on the table and heading out of Sully's.

"You too, blue eyes" Gus said to herself.

The next day as Gus was hauling boxes from the storage closet back to the homicide pit, Danny went running past her and almost knocked a box out of her hand. "Sorry 'bout that Broussard. I would help, but I got to get to a call."

"A call?" Gus exclaimed, "out in the field?"

"You bet" Danny beamed.

Gus set the box down and gave Danny a big hug, "Congrats, Danny!" she exclaimed.

"Thanks and it is bound to be a big one. At lady liberty" Danny rocked back and forth on his heels before running off.

"As in the Statue of Liberty?" Gus questioned, picking her box back up.

"The one and only" Stella replied, running past her.

Gus arrived with her box back in homicide seeing Flack preparing to leave. "Lady Liberty?" she asked.

"Got it in one" he said with a smile, "now if I could only get a hold of Mac."

"That big?" Gus was curious now.

"Press is already on it and he is supposed to be headed back today. I take it you two haven't talked much this summer?" Flack tried to keep his tone light, but his eyes were concerned.

"It, well, you see..." Gus didn't know what to say, "Good luck on the case" she said, heading back to the lab in a hurry.


	3. Here I Sit In Prison

**Chapter 9: New Parade March**

**A/N: Spoilers for 4x01 "Can you hear me now?"**

After lugging the various boxes and files back to homicide, Gus stood with her hands on her hip and surveyed her desk. It hadn't been assigned, or touched it seemed since she pulled her disappearing act. And it was still facing Flack's. Like the missing couch, this was another reminder that kicked her in the gut. Gus made a strangled noise, causing Parker to look up from his desk.

"Hey, kid, how you doing?"

Gus made a face and curled her lip. Pointed at her desk Gus coughed out, "Good, except that."

"Just a little dust. Cleaning crew is bound to have something-" Parker cut off, "Oh. Yeah. Well, here, take mine."

"Take yours?" Gus asked.

"Sure, I mean, a desk is just a desk to me, I don't care where I sit" Parker shrugged.

"Won't that seems a little obvious?" Gus questioned.

"Yeah, but who cares" Montgomery piped in.

Parker and Gus both shot lasers through their eyes at him. "To keep feeding the gossip stream or not to feed" Gus pondered.

"Face it kid, you and junior are going to keep being fodder no matter where you sit. First it was, 'will they or won't they' about you sleeping together and now it is whether you will get back together" Parker pointed out.

Gus leaned in towards Parker and said, "This might count as insider trading, but I wouldn't bet on it."

Parker surveyed Gus, not sure what to make of her statement. All he knew was that Flack had been storming around the precinct all summer until some of the guys called him on it. Then there was the great shake up in the division on whether they should try to set the boy up with someone else or not, but Loo put a stop to them choosing teams, so not much more was said about it, but Parker knew more than a few numbers had been sent Flack's way.

Gus stood, head swiveling between the two desks. Should she go back to her old desk and try to continue on as normal and risk a breakdown having to try to not moon over Flack all day, ie pull a Danny, or should she take Parker's desk and thus be more efficient at work but potentially not be able to live things down with the guys in the pit? "Thanks, Parker, but I'll be fine here. As long as I can roll on over to visit if need be" Gus said, wrinkling her nose at the dust on her desk.

"Any time, Broussard" Parker said, sitting back down.

"Good choice" Montgomery said from behind Gus, "because I wouldn't have let you live it down."

On the hunt for cleaning supplies, Gus ran in to Lindsay in the lab. "What are you doing here?" she asked in shock.

"I know, right, best crime scene possibly ever" Lindsay shook her head. "But Adam is missing and everyone else was called up first, leaving me here to hold down the fort and process information as it comes in."

Gus gestured to the television showing the news in the background, "Looks like the media has latched onto this one like a dog with a bone."

"Can you blame them. But get this, they are saying it is paint on the face, but Danny just informed me it is blood."

"That's a lot of blood then" Gus replied.

"Hope it isn't human" Lindsay shuddered.

Gus spent the next few hours trying to not claw her eyes out from going through cold cases while simultaneously trying to keep up with what was happening with the Statue of Liberty case. The press was having a field day with all major networks having picked up on the vandalism and murder, however the NYPD was trying to keep additional information to a minimum. Listening to her police radio and calls to Lindsay garnered Gus the information that in addition to the dead female security guard, a body had been found on the roof across from the island with "two more will die" written on his chest in blood. Not to mention that fact that apparently the new lab tech was somewhat of a hotshot in competition with Adam. Lindsay relished in this tidbit and also was mentioning something about spray condom residue found on the victim.

On an expedition for coffee and a sandwich from the new vending machines, Gus ran into Adam. "Hey Adam, heard Kendall is something of a spitfire" she teased.

"What is it will all you women up here always trying to b-" Adam cut off as Mac came walking down the hallway. "I gotta go figure out this" Adam said holding up a piece of metal.

"See ya" Gus called, "Hey Mac. How was your flight?"

"Fine, but quite a greeting to come back to" Mac said, looking carefully at Gus.

Gus returned his scrutiny, "You look tired" she said.

"As do you" Mac circled her, "how are the cold cases?"

"Boring" Gus admitted.

"Want to come experiment on the dummies with me?" Mac asked, hoping they would get a chance to talk.

Gus debated it for a second, "I would love to, but I have to follow some leads back in the pit. Dinner soon though, please?" Mac nodded before heading into one of the lab rooms.

Gus was deep into case files when Flack slid into his seat across from her desk. "See you managed to uncover your desk under the dust" he then took in the files, "and re-bury it."

Gus gave a small laugh, "Well if we weren't killing trees how would we ever solve crimes?"

"Have you ever dealt with this PO" Flack flipped through his memo book, "Steve Andrews?"

"Yeah, he's a good guy. Will give you the info you need without too much grief. Protective of his guys though" Gus said and looked quizzically at Flack.

"He's the PO of Damien Brock" Flack answered.

Gus put her hands up in a confused motion, "And who is Damien Brock?"

Flack shook his head, "Sorry, it is weird having you here but not knowing everything."

"Rub it in" Gus grumbled under her breath.

"What?"

"Nothing" Gus answered harkening back to his 'Just do it' statement and realizing how hard this was going to be.

"Anyway" Flack said shooting her a look, "Damien Brock is the guy we found on the roof across from the island, the two more guy."

"I see, well Andrews in a good guy, as I said" Gus went back to her files and forced herself to keep her eyes on the paperwork.

A bit later Flack looked up, "Got an address. Andrews was a good guy."

"You weren't doubting my word were you, Flack?" Gus asked and then waved him off, "Don't answer that."

"Heh. You want to come for a ride, I got Brock's address?" Flack was still trying to find balance in wherever they stood, on top of the fact that he missed Gus.

"I am waiting for an old witness to come in, otherwise...but good luck."

"See ya then, and don't stay too late, you still look tired" Flack instructed.

"As everyone including my uncle keeps pointing out" Gus sighed, rubbing her temples.

* * *

Gus was already back at her desk and making notes when Flack came in. "You did go home, right?" Flack said to her.

"Yeah, for a couple of hours" Gus said, not looking up, "Heard there was some excitement at Brock's place last night."

"You don't miss a beat, do you, su-" Flack broke off, confused at how easy it was to slip into comfort like she hadn't been gone all summer. Like she hadn't left him, standing in the street brokenhearted. "Yeah, excitement would be a word for it. Killer embalmed him there, still alive and called while we were in the apartment. Then Stella found one of them red things, ya know, ya look through, with the pictures?"

"A view finder? Blast from the toy past!" Gus exclaimed.

"I know, right? Anyhow there is this guy on there, and then we get a call on 911 that led to Lincoln Center." Gus suppressed a groan, thinking about the case she had worked there last fall. "Turns out the vic from the photos is trapped inside a drum. Danny and Mac find him, but he can't id his attacker because his tongue was cut out" Flack looked bewildered as he sat down. Flack's phone beeped, he looked down, read a text and looked up his eyes sad. Gus caught his look and felt her heart lurch, not to mention the distance between him. "Lee Nakashima, the vic from last night died in the OR" Flack said, writing something down in his book.

"Crap, Flack, I'm sorry. You got any other leads?" Gus asked quietly.

"Not much to go on."

Gus' phone rang then, she answered it to an anxious Stella. "Gus, do you have the evidence box for the Casimira case? It was from just a year ago and before I went down to the locker..."

Gus looked around her desk, which was better organized than first appearances, "Yeah, Marie, right? Got it here. Haven't opened it though, seal's still intact."

"Can you bring it over to the lab?"

"Sure no problem" Gus said hanging up and working to free the box from the stack.

"Casimira, huh?" Flack said coming over to help her.

"Yeah, did you work the original?" Gus asked, letting him take over the lifting.

"Nah, but the building Brock lived in is the same building this girl was killed at. Stella worked that case too."

"Small island" Gus remarked.

"Guess so. You need a hand with that?" Flack asked.

Gus shot him a withering glare, "I may look tired Flack, but I didn't get weak in New Orleans."

"Yeah, I heard. 1200 hours or something?" Flack looked at her amazed.

"Thirteen hundred and twenty six to be exact. Did Loo send out a bulletin?" Gus sniffed, "I'm going to get this to Stella" she said making her way to the lab.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Here I Sit In Prison**

**A/N: Spoilers for 4x01 "Can you hear me now?"**

After dropping the box off with Stella, who eagerly ripped into it, Gus ran into Danny. "Messer, heard you tried to get a little culture last night and it went south."

"You tellin' me, guy sealed into a drum, tongue cut out, it gives me the willies" Danny shuddered.

Gus smirked, "Ya wanna tell me more about this spray on condom or do I have to talk to Lindsay?"

Slight color rose to Danny's cheeks, "Come on now, Broussard, I don't kiss and tell. Or spray and tell as the case may be."

"I am just curious about the mechanics of it, that's all" Gus looked bemused.

"Just because you aren't getting-" Danny started in and then thought better of it, "just wait for margarita night, Gus." Danny shot Gus a full fang smile and then wandered off whistling. Gus shook her head and headed to Stella's office.

Knocking lightly so as not to scare her friend, who was currently lost in the box Gus had just dropped off, Gus asked, "Want a second set of eyes on that?"

"If you don't have other things to do, that would be great" Stella smiled, wearily.

"Are you kidding? This is as close as I can get to working with the whole team right now, so I am on it." They sat in silence for a long while, reading through the reports and other various paperwork. "Pretty girl, young too" Gus remarked, flipping through the crime scene photos.

"Aren't they always? I just can't help but think that somehow this case fits in with the current one" Stella shook her curls violently.

"Everything is connected, right?" Gus smirked. Stella smiled slightly. "You happy Mac is back?" Gus asked a while later.

"I am more than happy to hand the reigns and paperwork over to him" Stella rubbed her neck, "but I am a little worried about him. Did he tell you about the calls?"

Gus shook her head, "We haven't really had a chance to catch up. But I did glean that Peyton was still in London. And that he looks exhausted as apparently I do."

"He checked out of his first hotel early because he kept getting hang ups."

"Weird" Gus remarked.

"They continued at the new hotel" Stella looked pointedly at her.

"Even weirder. Maybe I should put a rush on that dinner with him?" Gus pondered.

"Maybe so" Stella remarked.

Gus' phone started buzzing, "Sorry, Stella, I gotta run. I got an old witness to reinterview. Hoping I can crack her."

"Thanks for looking through all this with me, if anything comes of it, I'll let you know."

It took several hours and sneaky psychological tactics for Gus to get her witness to break down and confess to murdering her friend. But Gus managed to, as she simultaneously tried to not waver as the young girl told of her jealousy of her frenemy and how she snapped one night after clubbing and beat the girl to death with one of her many "stupid trophies." She walked back to the pit looking satisfied. "That's your 'I got a collar' look" Flack smirked as she sat down and started in on the paperwork.

"Yep. And a little tip, don't mess with beauty queens, apparently they have mean jealous streaks" Gus retorted, not looking up from her file.

"I'll try to keep that in mind in all my dealings with beauty queens" Flack tried to catch her eyes, but Gus kept them averted. He sighed, she really wasn't coming back to him, he got that. Didn't make it any easier. "Stella called" Flack said, getting Gus' attention.

"And?"

"She said that Brock and Nakashima both lived in Casimira's building at the time of her death. She figures that was the crime the both witnessed. Apparently there was video on the phone like the answering machine message. They both had information that would id a perp and she thinks it might be Marie's killer."

"Why the hell is the case sitting cold then?" Gus bristled.

"Seems neither wanted to come forward at the time."

"Well that is just great" Gus sniffed.

"Hey not everyone believes snitchin' is bitchin'" Flack joked.

"One lousy t-shirt" Gus joked back and then cut off as a current passed between them. She was not going down this road again. Gus knew she had far too many things to work out on her own before she could attempt to fairly share her life with anyone. And while she had no reasonable expectations that the handsome detective would stay on the market very long, a tiny part of her held to the notion of if you love something, set it free.

Flack's phone saved them both, "Flack, yeah, yeah, okay, I'll meet you there." He hung up and looked at Gus, "Missing puzzle piece found, they think Nova Kent is the final target. One of her concert tickets was shoved down Nakashima's throat."

"Tasty."

"So you want to come with to Lincoln Center?" Gus furrowed her brow. "She's a musician, geesh, sunshine, keep up."

Gus looked at him with a distant stare, "Cold cases, Flack, I'm on cold cases. I'm not part of the team anymore."

Flack caught her look, realized his slip up and covered it quickly, "Catch ya later then" he said coolly before striding out.

Gus sulked at her desk for a while, feeling left out of the team, but knowing it was her own fault. "Idiot" she exclaimed walking back from the restroom.

"Talking to yourself?" Montgomery asked.

"Maybe, you only have to worry if I answer myself though" Gus covered with a false smile.

"You still got a thing for him don't you?" Montgomery questioned.

"Who?" Gus played innocent.

"Don't who me, Broussard, you are a far better detective than that. But a lot of us around here are pretty damn good detectives too. And all your shrinking skills in the world can't hide what is going on behind those eyes of yours" Montgomery tapped her on the head.

"Yeah, well, I got what I asked for. I think it is too late anyhow, I think he has moved on" Gus sighed.

"A coupla set ups here and there is hardly moving on, Broussard" Montgomery pointed out thinking he was being helpful.

Gus tried to not take a sharp breath at her newfound knowledge. "I gotta go" Gus rushed out, slipping past Montgomery.

Gus passed by one of the interview rooms, seeing Flack inside doing his angry, pacing tiger walk. She could tell by more than just the vein starting to throb in his temple that he was pissed. She also noticed Mac observing. Feeling like she needed to pretend at least for a moment that she might one day be part of the team again, Gus went a stood beside Mac. "What's his story?" Gus asked.

"Anthony Colton. Picked him up at the Nova Kent concert. He has been sending her black calla lilies, to keep her quiet" Mac replied soberly.

"He's the killer then?" Gus continued to watched as the man protested against Flack's interrogation, "Flack sure seems to think so" she said as Flack looked all but ready to throttle the guy as he sat down across from Colton.

"What's your take?" Mac asked quietly.

Gus shrugged, "I'm just a girl working cold cases who happened to pass by."

"About that-" Mac cleared his throat, but cut off as Colton exclaimed, "I only saw her. I went there to scare her, not to kill her." Mac and Gus watched as Flack, who had stood to leave, stared Colton down. Gus cringed as Colton said the magic words, "I want a lawyer."

Mac turned to Gus, "Survey says?"

"My gut? He killed Marie. He might have thought about killing Nova. But the guys? I don't think he had the balls or forethought" Gus chewed on her lip and then saw Flack about to exit the room, "I should get back."

"Augusta" Mac asked with care.

"Hmn?"

"Early breakfast when I am done here?"

"Don't you need sleep, Mac?" Gus replied.

"Don't you?" he countered.

"See ya at the diner" Gus capitulated.

"Lindsay" Gus said, running into her friend in the hall heading back to the pit.

"Flack and Mac done with Colton?" she asked.

"For now, he lawyered up. They are in there" Gus said pointing.

"Thanks. We should catch up later" Lindsay added.

"I'll put you on the list" Gus joked.

* * *

It was nearly 4am before Mac met Gus in the diner. By that point she had consumed enough cups of coffee that she wasn't sure when she would be able to sleep. Luckily, one of the perks of working cold cases was being able to essentially set your own hours. Though Gus figured she should try to be somewhat coherent for her appointment with her shrink later. "Mac, you look a little distracted. You wanna reschedule?"

"No, I'm just still on London time. And hungry" Mac replied sliding into the booth.

"What happened with Colton? Gus asked.

"He killed Marie. Morton Brite killed the men."

"The boyfriend? Wasn't Stella looking at him for Marie's death?"

"Yes, she was. And in fact she went to tell him that we had Colton in custody when it came out that he had killed Nakashima and Brock. Ended up having to shoot him."

"Damn, she alright?" Gus worriedly questioned.

"She'll be fine. Worried about me though."

"Imagine that" Gus drolled. "Hopefully she'll get McNair for her eval. He thinks she is hot. I mean mind you she is, but he'll go easy on her" Gus continued, "Now back to you."

"Wait, I thought this was going to be about you" Mac protested with a wry smile.

"We are a mess" Gus exclaimed, "at least Reed appears to have had a quiet summer."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Briefly in my boredom of cold cases. He took a full summer load, so he kept busy. In the library mostly" Gus shrugged. They ordered and sat in silence. "Peyton still in London?" Gus asked finally.

"She is staying for another few weeks. You and Don over?" Mac countered.

Gus nodded, "Yep. Shot myself in the foot good on that one."

"Quit by fedex? Gus what were you thinking?" Mac admonished.

"I wasn't. Clearly" Gus admitted.

"There are more productive ways to have meltdowns."

"As I figured. But Stella helped me to not get fired, so I am only stuck on cold cases and forced to see a shrink for an indeterminate amount of time" Gus admitted.

"Probably good for you" Mac said carefully.

"I know" Gus sighed, "and hey, at least this way it is on the department's dime" she laughed.

"You want me to talk to Daddino about getting you back with the team?" Mac asked.

Gus shook her head, "I don't think I am there yet, Mac, but thanks. It was a long rough summer."

"I know, I read your file" Mac revealed.

"Jesus, is there anyone Daddino didn't give it to?"

"He only gave it to me and the staff Sargent."

"Well that is a relief" Gus dripped.

"You'll be fine, Gussie. You just needed to process everything" Mac leaned in, "and I am speaking from experience."

"Ah yes" Gus smiled slightly, "and tell me about these mysterious phone calls?"

"Nothing to worry about" Mac said with finality.

"Like I shouldn't worry about Peyton staying in London?"

"You have enough on your plate, stop worrying about the world, Gus and focus on getting back up to snuff. I need you, the team needs you" Mac said, and then dug into the food the waitress had brought them.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Laughable**

Gus continued to struggle with cold cases, but she was luckily able to clear enough to keep Daddino and the brass happy. She was also able to convince Dr. Lyons that three sessions was more than a little excessive seeing as she was not suicidal nor was she have a psychotic break. He agreed and cut her down to two sessions a week and down to the normal fifty minute variety. "Well that's progress" she joked, "and if you tell me to use my feeling words, I will shove one of them down your throat."

"Client still exhibits aggressive tendencies and may benefit from anger management" the psychiatrist mocked writing a note. "Seriously though, detective, you are very insightful for a law enforcement officer, must be your psychologist coming out."

"See ya in a couple of days, doc" Gus said, leaving his office and heading back to the precinct. Stuck in a cab in the middle of traffic, because if the department was going to force her to continue with these sessions, she sure as hell was going to charge cab rides to them, her phone started buzzing. "Broussard" she answered.

"Hey, it's Flack."

"Hey, what's up?" Gus replied, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach.

"There's a guy here looking for you. Apparently he has some information on one of your cold cases. You want me to stick him in a questioning room?"

"Did he say what case? I didn't set up any appointments today, at least I don't think I did" Gus scrolled through her calendar to confirm this.

"He just walked in. They sent him up here, I found the file on your desk. Alexander Robbins. Case from 2005. Sanchez is on the DB-5, but he is off this week."

"Awesome" Gus quipped, "I am stuck in traffic, but yeah, park him somewhere, and I will get out of the damn cab and walk if I have to."

"Don't have to go that far, I saw what shoes you were wearing today" Flack snarked.

"Hey, now, junior, when a girl is stuck on cold cases, she can wear whatever footwear she wants, no matter how field inappropriate" Gus volleyed back, looking down at her near stilettos.

"Just as long as you ain't dressing up for your shrink, sunshine" Flack smirked.

"Just because I know all the tricks, doesn't mean I am going to use them, and don't make me regret telling you about my shrink, blue eyes" Gus said with a laugh, but then flushed as she realized she was being far more familiar than she wanted to be, "Just sit on him for me, Flack, and I will be there asap. Cabbie, move this hunk a junk would ya?" she called as she pushed the end button on her phone.

"I didn't mean literally sit on him!" Gus proclaimed after she had rapped on the glass to get Flack out of the questioning room, where he had been looming over the nervous looking man inside.

"Sorry about that. Didn't want him to pull a runner" he said, watching Gus enter the room and watching the man's reaction. Feeling suddenly territorial, Flack followed Gus into the room as she slid across from the 'witness' and whipped out a pen.

"You look more like a lawyer than a cop" the man said.

"Don't insult me, buddy, I just got out of a mess of traffic and I am not in the mood" Gus drawled, shooting Flack a 'what the hell are doing in here' look.

"Just tell the pretty lady what you told me, Norman" Flack said from over the man's shoulder.

Gus read the notation on the file, apparently the guy's name was Jeremy Norman and he wanted to…confess? Gus blinked her eyes a couple of times to clear them, seriously? Flack clapped a hand on Jeremy's shoulder.

"I killed my roommate" he said, deadpan.

"Alexander Robbins was your roommate?" Gus said, flipping through the case file. It was listed that the victim lived alone in a fifth floor walk-up in the meatpacking district and was a loner who was a graphic artist. It had been listed as a robbery gone wrong, no witnesses, little evidence. "And you just now, two and a half years later decided to waltz in here and inform us of this little detail?" Gus snapped, incredulous and trying to cover her confusion.

"I couldn't sleep and I am getting married" the man replied, as if that solved everything.

Gus shot Flack a look, he shrugged in response. "Well yeah, I could see how this might be stressing you out then" Gus sniffed.

"The priest told us we both had to go to confession" Jeremy remarked.

"Somehow I think he meant one of those little booths, on your knees, say a few Hail Mary's for playing with yourself" Gus pointed out, as Flack made a choking noise trying to cover his laughter. "Why did you kill your roommate?"

"He threw out my sponge, bought a cat, and stole my iPod" Jeremy looked serious, deadly serious.

"I can see how that would push anyone over the edge" Gus made a few notes.

"I am allergic!" Jeremy cried.

"Gotcha. Well listen, Jeremy, I am going to leave you alone in here with this little pad, and I want you to write down exactly what happened on the day you decide to off your roommate" Gus slid the pad in front of him and handed him her pen, "my part-" Gus cut off, "colleague and I are going to get a coffee. You need anything?"

"No, I'm good" Jeremy replied, already writing out his story.

"Freak!" Gus exclaimed, leaning against the wall outside the room as Flack looked in at the man busily writing.

"Figured you would get a kick out of him" Flack shrugged.

"Yeah, a real kick" Gus said, pulling her hair out of its elastic and rubbing her scalp.

Flack stared at her for a long beat, and then clearing his throat, said, "I'm going to get those coffees."

"Mmn hmn" Gus said, her eyes still closed as she tried to fight off a tension headache.

"Here ya go" Flack said, handing her a steaming cup.

"Thanks," she sighed, taking the cup, "so why didn't you take the collar?"

"Wasn't my case."

"But it is probably the easiest collar of the year!" she protested.

"Case file was on your desk, not mine."

"And those eight inches make all the difference" Gus rolled her eyes. He bit back a comment, but Gus could clearly see it on his face. "Watch it, buddy" she warned with a smile.

"How's it coming, Jeremy?" Flack said, leaning on the intercom button and ignoring Gus. Jeremy looked up as though God was speaking to him.

"And someone wants to marry this chump?" Gus snorted.

After Jeremy was in custody, and the paperwork signed off on, Daddino wandered in to the pit. "I can't keep you two from working together, can I?" he said hovering over Gus and Flack's desks. They both shrugged. "How is it you managed to fall over people wanting to confess?" Daddino continued.

"Luck" "Charm" they replied in unison. Daddino walked away shaking his head.

"Good work" Gus said, a minute later.

"You too" Flack smiled and then looked serious for a moment, "you wanna go grab some food?"

Gus tried to not over think the question or put too much stock in it, "Er, um…"

"It's just food, Gus, I know you gotta eat. To the diner and back" Flack said, reading the concentration plastered on her face, the battle behind her eyes.

"Fine, but I gotta be back to meet Stella", Gus said, grabbing her bag and striding out.

"Margarita night?" Flack asked as they settled into a booth.

"I wish, Lindsay has been MIA lately. Stella is helping me paint." Flack looked at her curiously but didn't say anything. "Bedroom, new bed, didn't like…" Gus trailed off and started shredding her napkin.

"About that-" Flack started.

Gus stopped in mid-tear and looked at him, wide-eyed, "Don't, please don't. You don't have to explain anything. I just- you just-" Gus set her jaw, "This was a bad idea."

She started to slide out of the booth, but Flack gently grasped her hand, "Gus, don't go" he pleaded.

Gus chewed on her lip, debating, realizing that Flack was going to be part of her life no matter what, and that she didn't actually want it any other way. Doc Lyons would be proud of that realization. She settled back into her seat, taking a few deep breaths.

"You can't keep running, I thought you had at least figured that out this summer" he said softly, his jaw set.

"I'm not running, just hiding" she flashed a small smile and he fought to ignore the tightness in his chest.

"Stop that as well, okay?" he dimpled back. "I heard it was pretty rough in New Orleans" he stated gently.

"Daddino?" Gus asked.

Flack nodded, "and Mac."

"It's…not the same and much the same and not good, Don. I thought I was going to go back and be able to help things somehow, be able to feel at home. That isn't what happened at all. Instead, I felt like I was stuck in part of the problem and fighting for a lost cause. What else is new though?" she paused briefly, "and I realized I really do have nothing left there, except to maybe visit. But then I am starting to wonder what I have here either" she shrugged, feeling self-conscious.

"Are you crazy?!" Flack exclaimed, "just because you got stuck on cold cases for a while and have to see a shrink doesn't mean you don't have anything here. Have you not noticed how worried everyone is about you?"

Gus nodded, "I know, but I think it is because they are all worried I am going to crack up on their watch. I'm not though, if I was going to break, I would have already done it."

"Look, I know this might be wasting my breath, but you don't have to keep the front up all the time. And if you ever want to talk, you know how to reach me."

"Do I? I don't even know where you are living now, Don!" the words erupted from her without her knowing where they were coming. She tried to suck them back in and looked a little shocked.

And so did Flack. "Well I didn't exactly think I could stay bunked up at your place" he replied looking at his watch, "It is getting late" he added.

"Running or hiding?" Gus nipped.

"Neither. I have-" he cleared his throat, "I have to meet someone."

"Of course you do" Gus said glumly.

Flack fought his desire to yank her out of the booth and either pinch or kiss her. "Day or night, Gus, you know my number", he landed a brief kiss on top of her head before he left.

Gus sat sullenly for a few minutes before dialing a number on her phone. "Hey, Stella, yeah, I'm ready, thanks again."

* * *

**Chapter 12: Winds Me Up**

"While I love the color, I am confused as to what was wrong with the old one" Stella said, standing back to admire her handiwork.

"Just needed a change" Gus nodded.

Stella caught the tone in her voice, and nodded in understanding, even if she didn't completely. "Tell me you aren't painting your living room since you got a new couch, because I didn't sign on for that."

"Nah, I'm good" Gus grinned and then yawned, "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was so late" she said, glancing at the clock.

"No problem, better than sitting at the lab, trying to convince Mac to go home."

"He still getting the calls?" Gus asked, going to rinse off their rollers and brushes.

"A far as I know" Stella said, walking after her, "3:33 every morning."

"Sucks, and they still can't track it?"

Stella shook her head, "Tech and the feds are still working on it, nothing yet."

"It is just weird, I mean, all of a sudden and to start in London. Maybe it is an old boyfriend of Peyton's or something?" Gus suggested.

"I get the feeling it is more than that" Stella looked deep in concentration, "but I can't get him to tell me any more, no matter how much I ask."

"You are a good friend, Stel, to me and Mac" Gus said, suddenly embracing the older woman.

Stella froze for a moment and then patted Gus gently on the back, "It will all work itself out, kid, I swear."

The next morning, Gus was called to Daddino's office before she even sat down at her desk. "I've been talking to Taylor" Daddino said by way of greeting.

"That's nice" Gus sighed, wondering what was coming.

"He told me your shrink knocked you down to two days a week."

How the hell did Mac know that? Gus thought to herself. "So I must not be about to go postal, huh, Loo?" Gus joked.

"Funny. I am still not ready for you to go back out in the field full-time until Lyons signs off on it, but if Taylor wants you as a consult, I am not going to deny him" Daddino replied.

"Because he's my uncle?" Gus snipped.

"Because I know he will keep an eye on you for whatever reason, and won't let you get in over your head. Something that would have served you well on your summer vacation from hell" Daddino retorted.

Gus crossed her arms and tapped her foot, "I wasn't over my head. I had a surprising good clearance rate, given the circumstances, and had I stayed, I could have gotten on the SWAT team."

"Well that is fabulous, so you could have gotten shot at even more? Do you have a death wish Broussard?" Daddino sometimes really did question the woman's sanity.

"I came back here, didn't I?" Gus raised her eyebrows.

"Yes, you did" Daddino cleared his throat, "What about Flack, you going to be able to work with him? You two seemed to do alright yesterday without killing each other."

"I don't know what you may have heard, Loo, but I am perfectly capable working with anyone in homicide, except maybe Lafferty, but he's just an asshole" Gus stared Daddino down.

"Fine" Daddino puts his hands up in mock surrender, "I was just checking, didn't want World War III happening in the pit."

"I make no guarantees" Gus drawled, "you asking him the same question, though?"

"Already did, yesterday before he grabbed your cold case."

* * *

"How did the painting go?" Flack asked as soon as she sat down at her desk.

"Fine, Stella as a huge help."

"Yellow, huh?"

"Creole mustard" Gus said looking curiously at him.

Flack snickered, "You have some in your hair still."

Gus started picking through her hair, not able to find what he was talking about, "Hot mess coming through" she sighed as Montgomery and Flack started laughing at her.

"Come here, kid, since junior seems to be all about torturing you" Parker called Gus over to his desk. Gus obliged until he pulled out scissors. "Calm down, would ya" he said, snipping out the paint. "How are things between the two of you?" Parker asked quietly, gesturing over to Flack, who was on the phone.

"Weird" Gus sighed, hopping up on Parker's desk.

"Other than weird?" Parker pressed on.

Gus shrugged, making patterns in the crumbs on the desk top, "The same and so not the same. Ergo, weird. Not being around him is like missing an appendage and being around him is sometimes agony, but whatcha gonna do?"

Parker nodded, wanting to say more, but noticing Flack had hung up the phone. "You really not flinch on that cannibalism case down there in the swamp?" Parker asked louder, changing gears.

"There were 21 other homicides I worked, not to mention the assaults and robberies. Why is that the one everyone keeps asking about?" Gus protested.

"Because we don't get many decapitation cases, especially not in a pot on the stove."

Gus made a face, "Yeah, well I guess couple's therapy wasn't for them" she joked, "but yes, I was the only one who didn't toss my cookies at the scene. I did later though, but you boys have taught me a thing or two about running with the big dogs." Self satisfied murmurs ran throughout the pit.

"Heard they were going to put you SWAT if you stayed, you gonna dump us here?" Parker asked, louder than needed.

"No Parker," Gus gave him a look, "I know it may be hard to believe, but I actually enjoy working with all you lugs." She patted him on the shoulder and hopped down from his desk, wondering the reasoning behind this little inquisition.

"Yo, Hannibal, take a ride with Flack, there's a floater with your name on it" Daddino said from his doorway giving her a look.

"One case, y'all, one case!" she protested as she stomped out of the pit.

Flack looked at her in shock as she tapped on the glass of the car. "You riding along?" he asked.

"I wasn't that much of a screw up, Flack, I am working this case with you" Gus sighed, sliding into the car.

"You got sprung from cold case?" Flack asked, slightly incredulous.

"I think this is on top of. You work your ass off one summer and this is apparently your reward" Gus joked.

"About that" Flack started, sliding her a look.

"Hmn?"

"What the hell were you doing?" he exploded.

"Excuse me?" Gus was taken aback at the emotion in his voice, not to mention the fact that she figured they would be able to at least get to the crime scene before things melted down.

"Why did you clock so many hours? Why did you not turn down and cases? Why did you shut down there but freaked out here?" Flack volleyed the questions at her so fast, Gus thought about jumping from the moving car.

"I thought we already had the running and hiding discussion, Flack!" Gus protested. His silence was answer enough. "Fine, when I left, I didn't really know where I was going. But TB called, he was, well doing bad would be an understatement, I thought he was going to kill himself. I got back to New Orleans and realized just how much things haven't changed in two years, except a lot of people were at the end of their ropes a year ago. Of course except for my former supposed friends, who were playing like nothing had happened and think the hurricane was a great cleanser of the city. Needless to say, I wasn't about to hang around them. I helped TB get back on his feet, which he did pretty quickly and the NOPD was more than happy to take me. Their force was half of what it had been and it was always understaffed. I got a little obsessed trying to clear cases, at least through arrests. The DA hates the chief, so there was little to no chance of a conviction. Murder/suicides were probably the best cases to get called out on," Gus paused and shook her head. Flack noticed her voice seemed far away and he felt guilty for snapping at her and bringing this about. "The only thing I had there was the job. So I did it, until I couldn't anymore. And then through the divine intervention of Stella and begging Loo, here I am. If you want the longer version, you gotta buy me a drink at least" Gus flashed him a small smile.

Flack wanted to reach over and squeeze her hand, but thought better of it. "What did you partner think of you working all those cases?" Flack asked hesitantly.

"That your way of asking how you compare, sugar?" Gus teased, "My partner was a fat, old, black man from the lower nine who was none to happy about getting paired with little miss white uptown. But he got off my back once I started clocking so many hours, as long as he didn't have to work them, he didn't care."

"You worked without backup?" Flack narrowed his eyes.

"You ain't gonna understand from sitting up here on your high horse, Flack"

"Who said I was on my high horse?"

"I am just saying things here in New York don't even resemble the way things are in New Orleans. If you haven't been there, you don't know" Gus ended, hoping she didn't sound too harsh.


	4. Light it on fire

**Chapter 13: Voodoo Shoppe**

**A/N: Spoilers for 4x02 "The Deep" and cursing.**

"That is way beyond a floater. Or a head in a pot, if you ask me" Gus exclaimed, covering her nose and mouth with her hand. Flack grimaced as well, as they stared at the body that had been fished out of the harbor. The full wet suit did little to hide the decay. Despite the smell of decomposition and the methane gas filling the air from an active bubble in the river, people were crowded around clamoring for pictures on their cell phones. "Guys, can we get these people back?" Gus barked at the uniforms who gave her a look. Gus stuck her hands on her hips, pushing her suit jacket out of the way, "See the badge?" she quipped.

"Make the perimeter wider" Flack barked, and the uniforms rushed to comply.

"Well that is frigging fabulous" Gus glowered, "Even if I was gone all summer, I was still a cop. And last time I checked, I didn't loose any authority while working cold cases."

"They are just new Gus, and you haven't been out in the field in a while" Flack tried to diffuse the situation.

"Whatever" Gus said standing over the body, poking at it with her pump, "This thing has to have been in the water for a few weeks, huh?"

Flack made a face, "Stop poking" he said, pulling her back, "Oh look, you can play with Hawkes, I'll go brief whoever else is on scene."

"Wimp" Gus called with a laugh.

"Gus" Hawkes said, setting down his kit on the tarp the body was on.

"Sheldon" Gus teased.

"See you two are partnered up again"

"I don't know if that is the case, but Mac called Daddino and here I am. Back in the field for this second at least" Gus sighed.

"And you two are talking?"

"Just talking, Shel. Which is better than killing each other, I suppose" Gus replied.

"Or avoiding each other" Sheldon pointed out, while taking photographs. Mac, Danny and Flack came back up the boardwalk a few minutes later making jokes about Staten Island. Ones that Danny didn't seem to care for, Gus bit her lip and gave Mac a slight nod. She listened as Hawkes explained that the diver looked like he had asphyxiated.

"Full tank of oxygen, face mask, doesn't make any sense" Gus said under her breath to Flack.

"I know, but luckily as of right now, it is their job, not ours" Flack replied.

"Gus, how much do you want to stay off of cold cases?" Mac asked her with a glint in his eye.

Having a feeling of what Mac was about to suggest, Gus quipped, "I am doing pretty good at them, why, Mac?"

"Because someone needs to be at posting" Mac grinned.

The other four exchanged glances of fear and disgust, "Don't look at me" Danny exclaimed.

"I think I gotta question a guy about a thing" Flack stammered.

"Someone has to deal with trace" Hawkes pointed out.

"I don't think Daddino wants me out of his sight for too long" Gus lamented.

"Guess Stella drew the short straw then" Mac smirked.

"You wanna ride back?" Flack asked.

"Didn't think you were in the habit of leaving girl's at crime scenes, Flack" Gus drolled.

"Just thought you might want a little extra time with the floater" Flack smiled at her.

Gus shook her head, "I should have checked out my own car" she muttered.

A couple of hours later, Flack leaned back in his chair after getting off the phone, "Sid id'ed the floater."

"That's nice" Gus said, deep back into yet another cold case. Her piles seemed to be growing instead of shrinking.

"Doug Holden" Flack said, raising his eyebrows, waiting for Gus to look up.

"Oh yeah?" Gus continued to make notes on one of the cases.

"Yeah!" Flack said with a hint of exasperation.

Gus chuckled silently to herself, she knew Flack had information he was dying to share. She looked up with a smirk, "Go ahead, tell me your news."

"He was an advanced certified diving instructor" Flack looked at Gus with satisfaction.

"Were you planning on taking up diving?" Gus continued to string Flack along until he gave her a piercing look.

"No, Broussard, I was not. You might want to though, if you keep going hanging out in New Orleans. My point was, how does a diver end up drowned?"

Gus met Flack's look with one of her own, "Accidents happen all the time, Flack. And I already know how to dive" with that she flipped back open her case file and continued writing.

"I take it you don't want to come out to Rockaway Beach with me and Stella?" Flack tried again.

Gus shook her head, "Nah, I got some stuff here. But have fun and try to not stumble across any arks this time."

"See ya 'round then" Flack said, giving up.

"What was that?" Parker asked Gus as soon as Flack left.

"What was what?" Gus said, going over and making a few marks on a dry erase board and putting up some crime scene photos.

"You turned down going out into the field. With Flack." Parker tacked on.

"And? I got something going here" Gus gestured.

"Ya know, Daddino asked me if he thought you two would be alright working together. I told him yes, was I wrong?" Parker asked quietly.

Gus turned, her eyes flashing, "Daddino checking up on me with everyone? Jesus!" she swore. Shaking her head, "And I am fine working with him. I am not fine getting shit from punks in uniform out in the field while they click their heels at him. And maybe I need to ease back into working with him, okay, Parker?"

"This have anything to do with him seeing other people?" Parker pressed on.

Gus set her jaw, but refused to turn around, "Is he? Seeing other people? Bound to happen. Free country, he's a free man" Gus connected some lines on the board.

"Don't punish yourself any more than you need to, Broussard" Parker said before walking away.

"Thought that was what I was doing" she called after him.

* * *

Still caught up in old crime scene photos, Gus sighed when her phone buzzed in from Flack. "What's up Flack?" she asked by greeting.

"Um, hi, I wanted to see if you could do me a favor" Flack asked hesitantly.

"Maybe" Gus said, trying to not smile.

"Run a background on Matt Campbell."

"Easy enough, but you wanna tell me why?" Gus prodded.

"He is Holden's partner."

"Partner or partner?" Gus questioned.

"Judging by the bikini clad girls hanging off of them in this picture I am holding and the large amount of single woman I have questioned who took lessons from them, I would say only his dive team partner" Flack answered bemused.

"Large amount of single women, huh? Sounds like you have had an interesting afternoon" Gus joked while silently adding it was a good thing she hadn't come along. And then also adding that she should probably talk about this jealousy thing with Dr. Lyons.

"Not as exciting as it sounds" Flack sighed.

"Well then. I'll go run your background and let you know what I find."

"Thanks sunsh- Broussard," Flack said, ringing off.

"Matt Campbell, you say" Gus said calling Flack back after she had run the name through the system.

"Yep."

"Interesting case you have going here, Flack. He flagged in missing persons. His sister reported it after he missed his mother's birthday party. I am getting the feeling the family isn't that close but not that close. Anyhow, no one has seen him, doesn't look like he has been home and so on" Gus tried to reign in her babbling.

"Well that is interesting. I'll have to pass that along to Stella. And I owe you one" Flack said, hanging up.

Her interest piqued by the latest information discovered, Gus wandered over to the lab the first chance she got. Though thanks to her work on the cold case, it was a good bit later. She ran into Sid and Hawkes talking in the hallway. "Don't ask me, I don't even swim" she heard Sid say before he walked back toward the morgue.

"Hey good lookin' what's cookin'" she joked.

"Not funny" Hawkes replied. Gus made a face. "We found another diver, in just as bad of shape as the one from earlier. And also killed with cyanide."

"Also? I hadn't heard the COD. It don't suppose it is Matt Campbell is it?"

Hawkes gave her a look, "How did you know that?"

"Sheldon, I am not completely out of the loop. And Flack had me run background" Gus added with a smile.

Sheldon raised his eyebrows as he returned the smile, "Always in the know, huh? Anyway, I gotta run. Well catch up later."

"See ya, Shel" Gus said walking off before running into Mac.

"How did you like being back in the field?" he asked, staring at her.

"Why do I sense a question in your question? It is nice to get out of this place, especially the pit. But I don't think I can go back to the way things were. Obviously" Gus stammered, feeling her stomach twist as she thought about her waring feelings concerning her former partner, "what I mean is I still think I should stay on cold cases for now, but don't get me wrong, I liked coming out to the scene. And if you need me to consult I can, I would love to. But there still is...stuff" Gus trailed off and looked at her shoes.

Mac studied her for a moment, "I see." He cleared his throat, "If you want to talk."

Gus shook her head, "I am good" and then catching Mac's look, "I mean, I have a shrink for that. And friends. I'm not shutting down again, Mac, promise" Gus crossed her heart before heading back to homicide.

Gus did a double take as she saw Flack sitting in one of the questioning rooms with an apparent suspect. She slipped into the observation room, adjusting the volume level on the speaker and settled in to listen to the British man attempt to answer Flack's questions. Gus was able to piece together than the man was a jeweler who had been questioned by Flack and Stella earlier in the day, so he must have been diving with one of the vics. In addition, apparently Stella had found gold coins in Matt Campbell's wet suit, which had turned out to be electroplated fakes. Hence the jeweler was now under Flack's intense gaze. "Diving for sunken treasure, ahoy matey" Gus joked to herself, "and I thought my New Orleans summer was weird." Gus bit back a smile as she saw Flack going in for the kill with his suspect and get shot down.

"Open marriage burn, Flack" she quipped as Flack left the room, "Rules don't apply to lifestyles of the rich and famous."

"Don't you have cold cases you were working on?" Flack said with a slight bite, though a smile took out most of the sting.

"I was just getting back to them" Gus said, raising her eyebrows and turning on her heel.

Flack watched her go, trying to decipher what was going on in her head, and trying to figure out if disconnect between the two of them too large to surmount.

Gus was back at her case board when she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Dammit, Thatcher!" she yelled turning around with her heart pounding. She had been so caught up in trying to connect dots on a three year old case that might be connected to a hot homicide, Gus had lost touch with what was going on around her.

"Sorry, Broussard, I called out to you about six times" Thatcher said looking slightly bashful.

"Whatever. What's up?" Gus asked, wiping marker ink off her face.

"Just wanted to ask you something" Thatcher said to the ceiling.

"Let me guess, about New Orleans?" Thatcher shook his head. Gus was slightly amazed, "What, girl trouble? Family issues? Need a profile?"

Thatcher continued to shake his head at Gus' rapid fire, "Nah, none of that. I gotta extra ticket to the police/fire hockey game, wanted to know if you wanted to come." Gus wrinkled her face until Thatcher added, "Lafferty is playing, so is your old boy Colin."

Gus smirked, "I gotta hope they both get hit in the face with pucks then. Sure, I'm game" she shrugged.

"Alright. Meet you there?" Thatcher said, walking away whistling about the lunch his partner now owed him insisting there is no way she would say yes.

"How did things turn out with Daddy Warbucks?" Gus asked, stopping by her desk and seeing Flack sitting there downtrodden.

"His alibi for Paris checked out. Back to square one. Stella and Mac think it might have something to do with a shipwreck diving scheme. Lindsay was going on about a sea cucumber, I dunno" Flack shrugged and threw his pen down.

"Yummy" Gus remarked. Flack looked at her curiously.

"What? They are good, just because you don't like sushi" Gus retorted.

"Nah, not that, I was just wondering if we were cool?" Flack put the question out there, feeling trepidations over the answer.

"Cool as a sea cucumber" Gus joked, giving him a wink. His silence turned her serious, "We are big boys and girls, Flack, we'll be fine."

"Then what is with you avoiding the field?"

"Honestly?" Flack gave her a long look. "I can't be back out there right now, I, uh, might have gotten a little burned out in New Orleans. I just need...some time before I am of any use on hot cases."

"Wow, Augusta Broussard admits weakness, they must of sent you to one good shrink" Flack teased with sincere eyes. "Take care of yourself, I mean that" he added.

"I will." Gus felt suddenly like her temperature had risen about 20 degrees, looking at the clock she said, "Wow, look, it's late. I'm not supposed to be clocking overtime, I've gotta head, but see ya tomorrow?"

"Sure thing" Flack said, trying to not look too curiously at her, which was made easier by the fact that she seemed to disappear into thin air once again. "She musta brushed up on her voodoo down there" he muttered to himself.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Peacemaker**

**A/N: If it seems familiar, it is probably from the script. No infringement meant. Spoilers for 4x02 and slight 4x03 hints.**

An early morning session with Dr. Lyons brought Gus little insight other than she was normal. "Jealousy is not an irrational emotion, Gus. Especially since you seem to be handling it in a mature manner" Lyons said to her after she spilled out her heart on every last twinge she had had since returning to New York regarding Flack.

"You mean I am not slashing his tires or boiling bunnies?" Gus dripped.

"I meant you are neither avoiding him nor throwing yourself at him" Lyons remarked.

"Go me, the poster child for balance" Gus curled up in the chair.

"You can't expect to slip back into things like the summer didn't happen, you know it doesn't work that way" Lyons pressed on.

"But I used to be able to. I used to just not let things effect me and I was able to pick back up!" Gus protested.

"No, you ran away or you hid, you stuffed things down and didn't deal with them. You drank or smoked or cut or did other high risk behaviors to ignore your feelings, which worked in the short-term, worked in an adolescent world where there were not as many consequences. Welcome to the party of adulthood, Gus" Lyons explained.

"I think I RSVP'd no" Gus sniffed.

"I highly doubt that" Lyons laughed, "you have been playing adult for a long time, now that you actually have to be one, you might be resenting some of the things you missed out on."

Gus narrowed her eyes and thought, "Go on" she said.

"Nope, I am just the beam of light, illuminating, you have to go there on your own, Gus."

Gus snorted, "Better than just being a tool in my toolbox, I suppose. But I get what you are saying. I ran away because I was rebelling when faced with a very adult decision coming on the heels of a life or death situation. I then proceeded to throw myself into a very bleak set of circumstances that forced me to be very much an adult at work while screwing around when I wasn't there. Realizing that wasn't going to fly long term, I worked myself until I burned out and realized I had to face the music back here. And now I am learning to live with my choices as best I can because I now have enough insight to know that I can survive, no matter what the end result may be." Gus ended, slumped and spent.

"I think you have just earned the only one session a week prize" Lyons remarked.

"Some prize" Gus said with a grin.

"How about next week we talk about your hesitancy to go back out into the field?" Lyons suggested.

"Can't wait" Gus dripped.

* * *

Gus walked in to the pit, already exhausted before she even started her shift. "I know you didn't have a late night, I saw you leave" Flack said, as Gus slouched at her desk, clutching her coffee like the holy grail.

"How do you know I went home?" she said, slurping at her coffee.

"You got me there" Flack replied, a slight dimple forming, his interest piqued.

Gus shook her head, "Who am I kidding? Preschoolers have more of a life than I do, currently. Doc put me through the wringer first thing, without even having had coffee first." Flack sat torn between bemusement and concern, he didn't say anything waiting to see if she was going to give him any more information. A few minuted went by, "Nice use of silence, Flack. But if you want to know more, you are gonna have to ask" Gus remarked, a glint in her eye.

"Only if you want to share" Flack volleyed back.

"Apparently I am all grown up now. I just had to rebel a little to figure that out. Delayed adolescence. Oh and he seems to think I am normal" a smile played at her lips.

"Compared to who?" Flack teased.

"Ha, very funny." Gus flicked through her to-do list, wondering if the conversation was going to continue.

After a long moment Flack said, "I got this thing..."

Gus looked at him, wondering why he trailed off, "mole? Burning sensation?" Gus questioned.

"Now who is the comedian? It is a fundraiser. Hockey game..."

"Police/fire? Yeah, Thatcher told me about it yesterday. I cannot wait! I am desperately hoping for Lafferty to take a blade to the head. Which might mean Lyons is right about my aggression issues, but whatever" Gus chuckled to herself.

"So you are going...with Thatcher?" Flack asked, trying to not look crestfallen.

Gus didn't notice, as she was jotting down notes from her voice mail, "Uh huh, I'll see you there, then?"

"Yeah, guess so."

"What the hell is wrong with the phones?" Gus said, slamming down the receiver.

"I don't think anything" Parker remarked, "why?"

"I tried at my desk, I tried in the conference room, and now here, it is telling me Mac's extension doesn't exist", Gus looked exasperated.

"Sure you are dialing it right?"

"Did they change it overnight?"

"I'm just saying," Parker protested.

Flack ran over to where the pair was standing, "Gus, we gotta go, there's been an accident" he said, breathing heavy.

Gus turned slightly pale as she ran after him. "What? Who?" she stammered as Flack peeled out of the lot. "Mac?"

Flack shook his head, swerving around traffic, sirens and lights on fill force. "Danny and Hawkes were out diving again. Dispatch just said there was some kind of problem."

"What the hell?! For that shipwreck?" Flack nodded, concentrating on getting to the scene as quickly as possible. "The department has people better equipped for such things" Gus protested.

"They called it a crime scene" Flack said, between bouts of yelling at traffic.

Gus shook her head as the screeched to a stop by the river. Gus jumped out of the car behind Flack, but got held up by a uniform. "I just got out of a frigging' cruiser and you wanna check my badge?" Gus screamed, trying to break free. She unclipped her badge and shoved it in the guy's face, "Can I go?"

The uniform stepped back, apologizing, "Just following protocol" he called after her.

Gus ran up to the ambulance where Flack was holding a syringe, while Danny and a wounded Hawkes looked on. "Sheldon, Jesus, are you okay?" Gus asked, ducking under an EMT.

"Just a hairline fracture, I'll be fine" Hawkes protested.

"What were you two doing down there, anyway? That's a damn deep dive in the East River! Crime scene or not, you two should know better, are you even certified for this?" Gus chastised.

"Ay, now, mother hen" Danny teased, "with any luck, Flack is holding the murder weapon of our two vics."

"Why do y'all feel the need to be heroes all the time? You don't have superpowers" Gus pointed out, staring down the trio and still looking shaky.

The men laughed her off, "Like you don't try to play superwoman?" Hawkes said, clutching his side from the laughter.

Gus growled, "Whatever" she said, flouncing back to the cruiser.

"I thought Lyons said you was normal" Flack remarked as he slid back behind the wheel.

"He did" Gus retorted.

"That why the freak out?" Flack asked, gently.

"I just think it would be nice if the people I cared about quit taking risks all the time. That's all" Gus' jaw was tight.

Flack nodded, knowing to drop the subject for now, "Gotcha. And about the uniform?"

"Guess it has been a while since I have been out there. New crop of academy grads," Gus tried to shrug it off. "They'll get to know you the more you are out there"

Flack tried to placate her. "Yeah, guess so" Gus turned to stare out the window, not wanting to loose it in front of Flack.

"I need coffee" Gus said as soon as they were back to the precinct.

"Shock" Flack replied.

Needing to collect herself, Gus headed out to the street cart, running into Stella along the way. "Who is that fine young thing?" Gus asked gesturing with her chin to a guy about her age that Stella had just turned away from.

"Some guy I met at the coin dealer" Stella replied, her brow furrowed.

"And?"

"He stole my card, analyzed me and then asked me out for coffee" Stella revealed.

"That's either brave or stupid" Gus said with a smile.

"Maybe both and definitely weird" Stella answered.

"You gonna go?" Gus asked, following her friend back toward the precinct, figuring she would just get a cup from special vics.

"Don't know" Stella shrugged, heading back toward the lab.

"Where's your coffee?" Flack asked as she walked back through pit.

"I got side tracked by Stella" Gus gave him a questioning look.

"Where is she?"

"I assume heading back to the lab."

Flack rushed ahead, "Because she was looking for salvage documents on the shipwreck and I found them, but they don't belong to anyone real. Phony name and address."

"Is it just me, or did this case keep getting weirder and more complicated?" Gus asked with a shake of her head.

"That seems to be going around lately" Flack replied, walking off towards the lab.

"Freaking' finally" Flack exclaimed loudly a while later, causing Gus to jump and slosh coffee all over her paperwork.

"Crap!" Gus replied, sopping up the mess.

"Here, sorry" Flack said throwing her a stack of napkins, "you seem jumpy lately."

Gus shrugged, "Dunno, distracted, summer of gunshots, who knows. Did you catch a break?"

"Yep. Danny and Lindsay found cortisone and DNA in the syringe. Lead them to Balkan ancestry which leads to someone Stella questioned from the dive students" Flack explained excitedly.

"Single men?" Gus volleyed.

Flack pursed his lips and continued, "Albanian students who were taking lessons until one of them got the bends."

"Going to have a chat then?" Gus couldn't help but smile,

Flack's excitement was infectious. "Heading out with Stella and Mac now. You wanna?"

Gus waved him off, "Pretty sure four is way more than a crowd."

Gus was waiting on lab results on old evidence when she heard the emergency call come in from Flack. "Explosive device?" she gasped as the radio squawked on the table.

"Shit is going down" Danny said, also staring at the radio in slight panic.

"Why can't he stay away from bombs?" Gus said, starting to pace.

"I know, huh?" Danny replied, studying Gus' pacing and trying to keep his concern under wraps.

"10-92, the suspect is being transported to precinct" the radio informed them.

"Oh boy" Danny said turning on his heel.

"Where are you going, Messer?"

"To question this nut job" Danny replied emphatically, "You wanna observe?"

"Hell yeah" Gus said rushing after him.

* * *

Danny had barely begun questioning the rather blasé suspect before Mac came storming past where Gus was observing and threw open the door. He shot her a look that she most certainly seen in her lifetime, but never on him. Gus instinctively moved to block more of the window as Mac pulled the suspect up and shoved him against the wall. Danny called for Mac to be easy, while slamming the door shut and flicking at the blinds. Wishing he had closed them instead, Gus glanced nervously around and turned off the speaker, knowing that the choking sounds would come over loud and clear as Mac applied pressure to the man's trachea. Gus breathed a small sigh of relief as she saw Flack coming down the hallway with paper's clutched in his hand, "Thank God" she sighed as he entered the room calling, "We got something."

Mac and Flack came walking out of the room, with Mac exclaiming "They are hitting the UN."

"I already notified UN internal security, they are on high alert" Flack informed him. Gus hurried to keep up with the two taller men, who were making quick tracks down the hallway.

"Iraq's commissioner of public integrity is speaking in half an hour" Mac said, striding away.

"Why would he be a target?" Flack asked.

Gus could feel the wheels turning in Mac's head and tried to mentally conjure up recent news reports she had heard. "He's investigating millions of dollars in US aid stolen by insurgents."

"What's the Albanian connection?"

"The Albanian Liberation Army supporting the insurgents" Mac replied.

Gus got lost in the shuffle of homicide and only caught back up to the pair in time to hear Mac exclaim, "The 23rd Street Helipad is right on the East River!" Gus rushed after the pair as Flack barked orders for central dispatch for a level 1 mobilization and to evacuate all non-essentials. "Don't get blown up, either of you!" Gus yelled after them and hustled back to the lab. "I cannot believe this, how can this be happening again?" Gus angrily questioned as she jabbed at the elevator button.

Gus stormed into the lab, latching onto Danny, who had handed off the suspect. "What's going on with the UN?" he asked. Gus held up a finger and turned up a radio.

"Figure the Albanians called in a death threat to a UN motorcade which automatically re-routes to helicopter. They must be trying to blow up the heliport. Flack and Mac are headed to 23rd Street now, with every agency available backing them up" Gus rushed through the explanation, and returned to her pacing from earlier, adding silent prayers this time.

"It's gonna be fine" Danny said, as much to convince himself as Gus.

"First you and Sheldon with your deep sea adventure and now this! Could y'all just be safe for a little bit, please?" Gus pleaded, "I have had more than I can take the past couple of years."

Danny stood in Gus' path, stopping her and gripping her shoulders, "And no one has died. It will be fine."

Gus nodded, trying to not space out, trying to maintain control, trying to not break like she had the day the lab blew up. She had worked on this with Lyons, she just had to calm down. Gus was trying to get to a safe place in her mind and not have Danny think she was a total freak when the radio reported, "Frequency jammed, bomb disarmed." Gus all but fell into a chair and put her head in her hands.

"See, whad I tell ya?" Danny said, dropping down beside her.

Gus waited surreptitiously in the pit until she saw Mac and Flack come in with the suspect. She had to see them with her own two eyes, even though she had heard the all clear on the radio. Knowing they both had plenty of questioning and paperwork to do, she didn't wait around for them to be finished, but she did give Flack a small wave and concerned smile on her way out. He gave her thumb up and mouthed, "See ya." Gus nodded and headed home, trying desperately to not feel alone and unsafe in the city.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Light It On Fire**

Gus rushed into the pit, looking harried and running late. "Dammit" she yelled, shuffling through a pile of papers on her desk.

"What's up?" Flack said, looking over at her with a lazy glance and a bemused smirk.

"I have been stuck in court for the past two days and now I can't find a file that I need to review before tomorrow and I am probably going to be late to the damn hockey game" Gus rushed the words out, still trying to sort through the mess of cold cases on her desk.

Flack's smirk grew into a smile, "What case?" he asked, unfolding his long body from behind his desk, where he had been catching up on paperwork.

"The beauty queen case I got a confession on while you were working the Liberty case, daddy apparently is a high powered attorney, which is how it has gone to trail so fast," Gus paused still shuffling through stacks, "and I thought I had put these in some sort of alphabetical order, but that apparently has gone out the window in the past coupla days."

"And here I thought you had just gone to hide in a closet again" Flack said, coming over and helping her flip through files.

"Nope, no hiding here" Gus said and then her eyes lit up, "ah-ha, here you are. Between 'E' and 'G'. I knew I would find it."

"Funny given the last name is Rice" Flack remarked, pointing at the file.

"I am not going to question it" Gus shook her head and slid the file into her tote.

"Are you wearing that to the game?" Flack replied, pointing at her skirt-suit, which while prefect for court, did not exactly scream sporting event.

"No, I am going to hope and pray I have something in my locker. Are you wearing that?" Gus asked, pointing to his suit with equal teasing.

"No, I've got clothes in the car."

"Glad we cleared up this fashion emergency" Gus said, flouncing toward the locker room.

Gus looked in her locker with dismay. She hadn't had use for it since being back and stuck on cold cases. Not having to go anywhere, in addition to not being able to clock overtime, had made it unnecessary for Gus to have to change her clothes. Stuffed in the bottom under various bits of debris and beauty aids, was a pair of wrinkled jeans and the pair of boots she had loaned Lindsay once upon a time. "It will have to do" she sighed, slipping out of her suit, happy there was a hanger at least in the forgotten locker. Upon exiting the locker room, having made herself look as least business like as possible, Gus literally ran into Flack, who was leaned against the door jam already changed.

Flack's eyes flicked over Gus' jeans, scant red top and boots. "And that's what you came up with to wear to the game?" Flack asked, hoping he sounded amused and not territorial, despite his feelings leaning towards the latter.

Gus leaned against the other side of the door jam, surveying Flack's long-sleeved NYPD shirt and blue jeans, "Different from what you are wearing now in what way?" she asked crossing her arms over her chest.

"This is a police vs fire hockey game, you can't even tell you are a cop" Flack protested.

"I think the shield might give it away!" Gus countered, clipping her badge to her belt.

"Just wait here" Flack said, ducking into the men's locker room next door. He came out quickly, an NYPD windbreaker in his hand, "Here take this, you might get cold, it is an ice rink after all."

"Flack, what the hell is your deal? You haven't been this concerned about what I am wearing since that first night you and Danny took me to Sully's. And I have a gun now!" Gus tried to figure out what was going on, but wasn't sure she had the emotional energy to deal with it.

"Just looking out for you, that's all" Flack stepped away from her, the space between them was entirely too small for his liking.

"I don't need anyone to look out for me, Flack!" Gus' voice raised, though luckily the area was deserted.

"I just don't want Thatcher to get the wrong idea!" Flack howled back.

"And just what would Thatcher get the wrong idea about?" Gus' balled her fists off, not liking wherever this was going and whatever it was about.

"I just know he and Lafferty had a bet on whether you would actually come or not" Flack said, trying to get his emotions under control. He didn't like the effect that Gus continued to have on him.

"A bet?"

"Yeah, for lunch" Flack replied.

"But it is not like it is a date, I am pretty sure I made no inferences of that sort" Gus paused for a moment, "Not that it would be any of your business anyway" she snapped, and instantly regretted it as she watched his eyes turn to a steel blue.

"Fine, whatever, you don't need a keeper. Got it" Flack turned to walk away, but then suddenly stopped, taking a deep breath before turning back around. "I wanted to see if you wanted a ride, that was all" he said wearily. Gus closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed before answering,

"Yeah, a ride would be great."

"Thanks" Gus said, after Flack had parked the car.

"No problem" Flack replied, not sure what to say next.

"I'll, uh, see you, I guess" Gus responded, feeling the uncomfortable distance again.

"Yeah. If you need a ride home, just call me" Flack said as they separated, their seats in different sections.

"I should be fine, but thanks. Have a good night, Flack" Gus said softly.

"You too, Gus" he said, giving her a mock salute before walking off.

Gus found her seat and noticed Thatcher's eyes survey her as she slid down the row. Though, as a good detective, his head didn't move and his expression didn't change. But Gus still felt a twinge that Flack may have been right, and if so, she was going to have to nip this in the bud. "So where did Lafferty take you for lunch?" she asked by way of greeting.

"What?" Thatcher asked, feigning innocence.

"Cut the crap, Billy, I work in the same pit as you" Gus' eyes seared him to his seat.

"It wasn't like that!" Thatcher protested.

"Wasn't like what?"

"It's just that Lafferty didn't think you would come out because of you and Flack," Thatcher replied.

Gus' voice was cool in reply, "And you were the lamb sent to slaughter to ask me?"

"No, nothing like that. I just figured- I just heard-" Thatcher stammered and ran his hand through his hair, "I know you had a rough summer and I know you think a lot of us guys resent you and I just thought you could use a friend."

"A friend?"

"Yep, that's all, I swear" Thatcher held his hands up in surrender.

Gus gave a nod, "Good. As long as that is cleared up, you want a beer?"

"Sure. And by the way, Lafferty bought me a taco off a cart in Spanish Harlem while we were out on call."

"You got hosed, Thatcher" Gus sniffed.

Thatcher shrugged, "you still came and you bought me a beer." Gus gave a small laugh, to which Thatcher teased, "Hey, you can still smile."

Gus rolled her eyes, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It's just...look, I don't know what happened between you and Flack or what all went down in New Orleans, but you have kinda been wandering around like the walking dead."

"You're telling me a look like a zombie? Some friend!" Gus teased back.

"No! I didn't mean- oh man" Thatcher started to stammer again.

"Billy, I was just teasing you. Drink your beer and watch the game."

They settled in to watch the first period, where Gus did not get to see Lafferty pummeled, because the tours of duty were short to say the least. Toward the end of the first period, Thatcher happened to catch sight of Flack across the way. As he locked eyes with the other detective, he had to wonder if the other man was giving him a warning look. Tatcher stared Flack down until a red head cut off his view by playfully waving her hand in front of Flack's face. Flack turned to face the young woman, giving her one of his trademark dimpled grins. Thatcher figured this chick was obviously not police or fire. He mused that she was probably one of those posh, airhead socialite. The kind of girl Flack usually made fun of, which made the fact that he appeared to be flirting with her all the more interesting to Thatcher.

"Just what is the deal between you and junior?" Thatcher asked Gus, who was intent on the game and had missed the whole exchange.

"Me and Flack?" Gus asked taking a long drink of beer, "that is a wonderful question I wish I had an answer to. Why, trying to get information before you join another pool?"

"Nope, just asking" Thatcher said, also turning his attention back to the game.

* * *

**Chapter 16: He Don't Know You**

Gus was at the snack bar debating her choices when she heard someone at her shoulder say, "Howdy stranger." She turned to find herself looking directly into the face of the other person she had hoped to see pummeled with a puck."Colin" Gus replied, taking in the fact that he was on crutches, which explained why she hadn't seen him out on the ice.

"How are you doing, Gus?" Colin asked, balancing himself on his left leg.

"Good, I suppose. And you, you aren't playing tonight?" Gus was torn between wanting to be civil and wanting to run away from this cheating farce of a man.

"Tore my knee out, trying to rescue one of those fat, hairy guys I always get stuck with" Colin grinned, showing off his dimples that were even deeper than Flack's.

Gus forced herself to not get sucked in by his chocolate eyes or his infection laugh. "How's the missus?" she asked, trying to not sound like a complete bitch. She did, however, take a small amount of delight in watching Colin's face fall.

"About that...we ended up calling off the wedding. Because of you-" Colin started.

"Because of me?!" Gus cut him off, "I am pretty sure I was up front about what was going on in my life-"

"Gus!" Colin cut her back off, tapping on her gently with his crutch, "I meant, I realized I was the marrying type, even if everyone else wanted me to be. I took a lot of time to think about things, so I guess thank you for that."

Gus was a little beyond dumbfounded and suddenly found herself wanting something stiffer to drink than the coke she was about to order.

"Murphy, what the hell, one bum knee and you don't know how the hell to order a coupla-" the fair haired man stopped short, "Oh hey, I can see why you got distracted" the man whispered in Colin's ear.

Gus caught the exchange and snorted, "Are all you firebugs incorrigible?"

"Like you cops are any better!" Colin retorted.

"Consorting with the enemy, Murphy?"

Gus couldn't help but snort again, "Never again" she muttered.

The man raised his eyes, "You gonna introduce us?"

Colin gestured, "Gus, this is one of my engine guys, Mitchell Curtis. Mitchell, this is Gus, we ah...well."

"He rescued me from one of my homicide scenes when the perp set the place on fire and I tried to play hero, but ended up getting stuck in the floor" Gus answered.

"Oh, you're the homicide home wrecker" Mitchell said with a slight smile.

"Well that is fabulous" Gus sniffed, growing angry.

"Don't worry about it, there are a lot of good adjectives between the two, but I won't use them in such pleasant company" Mitchell said, sticking his hand out for a shake.

"He's a much nicer guy than me" Colin quipped, giving Gus a little eyebrow raise.

Gus cocked her head at him, seriously, was her cheating ex trying to set her up with one of his friends?

"What are you doing after Fire's stunning victory?" Mitchell asked, pushing his sandy hair off his forehead.

"Celebrating Blue's win at Sully's most likely" Gus shot back.

Mitchell laughed, but not maliciously, "Nice one, don't miss a beat, do you?"

"Not generally" Gus said, noting that Colin had backed away from the pair and was busy getting food from the snack bar.

"How about this, if we win, you come with me to Walker's and if your boys in blue win, I'll go with you to Sully's."

Mitchell seemed so relaxed with the statement, Gus had to laugh. "Did you just invite yourself to a cop bar?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"No, I just asked you out, and we are letting the ice decide where" Mitchell shrugged.

Gus was about to protest, when something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She wasn't sure if it came from being partnered with him or being in love with him, but Gus certainly had an alarm that went off whenever Flack was around. However the sight of him with a trio of young woman, one of whom had thrown her arm over his shoulder caused Gus to have alarms of a different sort. Ones exacerbated by the fact that these women where dressed to the nines and looked like they should be clubbing, not at a hockey game, and Flack seemed to be enjoying that fact as opposed to chastising that. "You're on, and don't worry, if they try to mess with you at Sully's, I'll protect you" Gus said with a wink and handed Mitchell her card.

"See ya at the end of the third then!" he called to Gus' back.

"Ya missed like half of the period" Thatcher exclaimed as Gus slid back into her seat.

"Well sorry, I ran in to somebody" Gus said, not giving Thatcher any more information.

This only caused him to wonder if Gus had run into Flack and his new admirers, but since she didn't look pissed, he was betting no. Thatcher shook his head and looked across the way. Flack was in his seat, deep in conversation with the red head, who seemed to be putting all of her assets on display. The man didn't have any clue how lucky he had it, Thatcher mused to himself. First he pulls the untouchable niece of Mac Taylor and now he manages to end up with a celebutante at a place normally only frequented by the brotherhood where the best thing you can hope to pick up is some desperate Jersey girl and a case of the clap.

He shook his head in disbelief, making Gus to turn her attention from the game to the line of sight Thatcher had been watching. More than a little knowledgeable about the draw of Flack and well versed in his body language, not to mention the obvious display of interest the red-head was showing, Gus had a pretty quick and clear picture of what was happening across the rink.

A low growl sounded in her throat, causing Thatcher to start and stare. "I think you got the answer to the question about you and Flack, Broussard" Thatcher mused.

"Shut the hell up, Billy, this beer is on you."

Gus' cell phone rang as soon as the buzzer sounded at the end of the game. "Guess that last second goal means you are coming to Walker's huh, detective?" a male voice said over the line.

"Huh?" Gus said, she had spent the rest of the game trying to not pay attention to the show across the way, but in doing so had missed most of the action on the ice, "Oh, Mitchell, yeah, Walker's. Meet you there?"

"Unless you need a ride?" came a voice at her shoulder. Gus looked up to see Mitchell Curtis standing behind her.

Thatcher looked between Gus and the fireman, at least he was assuming the guy was one judging by his NYFD shirt, "I'll see ya tomorrow, Broussard" he said making tracks out of the stands.

"Sure, a ride would be great" Gus said, taking the hand that was offered to her as Mitchell effortlessly pulled her to her feet.

Gus hesitated a moment before entering the pub. "If you are worried about being a cop, you'll get a pass. Though you might want to take off the windbreaker" Mitchell said, pointing to the NYPD jacket Flack had given her, which she had been happy about seeing as of course Flack was right and she had been freezing within five seconds inside the rink.

"Right" Gus said shrugging out of the windbreaker, "Actually I just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to have to arrest any of Colin's, ah, companions for assault tonight" Gus said, with a wry grin.

"You should be clear, Colin's been a pretty good boy lately" Mitchell quipped, holding the door open for her.

"That's what I am afraid of" she said under her breath.

Gus passed a pretty good time that evening, though she did take her fair share of ribbing over the blue's loss in the match up. Colin cornered her coming back from the restroom to apologize, and he amazingly did so without trying to hit on her, leaving Gus to believe his attempts at turning over a new leaf had been at least somewhat successful. Gus also spent a large part of her time trying to banish the vision of the redheaded woman draped over Flack out of her hand, something that was helped along by several firebugs more than willing to ply her with drinks. "You sure can hold your liquor" Mitchell commented a short time before last call.

"One of my many talents. Besides, we don't have last call down in the swamp, you have to be in it for the long haul" Gus said, taking a long pull of her drink and letting the numbness wash over her.

"To New Orleans girls" one of the other firefighters called, raising his glass.

"Hell's Belles" Gus replied, tipping her glass back all the way.

"okay, folks you know the drill, don't have to go home..." the bartender called, wiping down the bar.

"You need a lift?" Mitchell asked as Gus slid off of her barstool and fighting off any possible effects of the alcohol.

"That would be great" Gus said, shaking off the cobwebs. Settled in Mitchell's truck, Gus gave him directions to her place.

"Gramercy Park, huh, nice digs for a cop" Mitchell commented.

Realizing he did not know her at all, Gus felt something akin to disappointment and panic, "I wasn't a cop when I bought it."

"You have some secret background, huh? You like a spy or something?"

Gus chewed her lip, "I wish it were that glamorous. What about you?"

"I live in Brooklyn, tend bar a coupla nights a week to make ends meet so I don't have to have a roommate" Mitchell said, completely unabashed.

Gus smiled slightly, "I meant do you have a secret background."

"Nope, just a farm boy from Iowa who got his ass kicked a lot for being called Mitchell, who always wanted to be a fireman. Me and my brother moved here after 9/11 much to my mother's chagrin, since we had just lost my dad from a heart attack. Got two brothers and a little sister still back home. A regular meat and potatoes kind of guy" Mitchell shrugged and shot her a smile, and Gus realized she was more than a little relived at his brown eyes and lack of dimples. "What about you?" he asked as they pulled up to her building.

Gus sighed deeply, "That is a story for another day" she said, staring out the window. Turning to him she said, "Look, I know you probably expect me to invite you up or something, but I just can't right now. And you seem like a great guy, so I am sorry about that."

Mitchell looked at her quizzically for a second before smiling again, "No expectations. Promise. It was nice meeting you, Gus, and maybe I can take you out for real at some point?"

"Maybe so" Gus said with a wistful smile as she slid out of the car.

Mitchell held up his hand in a goodbye, and Gus returned the gesture as he pulled away.

Gus looked up at the night sky after his rear lights faded. "There is so much wrong with you, Broussard" Gus said to herself, before trudging inside to her silent apartment.


	5. Hole in my heart

**Chapter 17: Hole In My Heart**

It was over a week before Gus made her way back to homicide. Over a week of sitting in court, hating feeling trapped by the halls of justice. Over a week of feeling cut off from the team and the real world. over a week of Gus coming up with a thousand scenarios of Flack and the redhead. Over a week of rumors flying around the pit about Gus coming to the hockey game with Thatcher and leaving with a firebug. Over a week of Flack sitting at his desk trying to not listen to the rumors and trying to make sense of them. over a week of Flack finally discerning that Gus was not back with that cheating bastard Colin Murphy, but might be seeing one of his fellow engine boys. Over a week of unanswered calls in both directions, as life had managed to come between them yet once again. Over a week of silence between the two formerly intertwined partners. over a week of calls from the very persistent Devon Maxford. Over a week of Flack finding himself intrigued with the idea of seeing how the other half lived, especially since he had a willing tour guide, especially since Gus had made it clear that she was moving on. Over a week, may as well be a lifetime, Gus thought as Flack's phone went to voice mail once again. Giving up, she dug a NYFD card from her bag and called up the station house.

"They finally sprung ya, huh?" Parker asked as Gus entered the pit the next day.

"Yeah, finally. Another bench in the courthouse with a permanent imprint of my ass on it" Gus said, sitting down across from Flack and noticing he hadn't looked up. "I'm doing great, Flack, how about you?" Gus snipped after she took all she could of his silent treatment.

"Sorry, busy, working hot cases you know" Flack said, and then feeling guilty about acting like a jerk looked up at her, "How did the trial go?"

"Guilty on all counts" Gus said with a small smile, "What have you got?"

"A hit and run, revenge drug kill and everyone has been told to read up on the latest string of burglaries with the uptown set" Flack said, shoving some papers at her.

"Burglaries? Has anyone been hurt?" Gus said, taking the dossier. "Nope, seems pretty harmless all and all, but some pretty powerful people have been hit, including Sinclair" Flack shrugged.

"Ah, so it is political, huh?" Gus said, recognition sparking in her eyes.

"You know the drill" he replied.

"You have been a pretty hard guy to get a hold of, blue eyes, what have you been up to?" Gus asked, trying to sort out everything she had to get done that day. Flack looked at her for a long beat before she realized she had used a far to intimate term. Blushing, Gus stammered, "I just mean, we have been playing phone tag and I know you hate to talk by voice mail and I-" Gus forced herself to shut up, partially because of the bemused look on Flack's face.

"Just, ya know, this and that. What about you, heard you hooked up with another firebug?" Flack hoped he sounded as casual as he wished he was.

Gus gave a small sniff, "I don't think the term hooked up is in any way applicable to my life. Though I can only imagine how reality may have gotten twisted with Thatcher as the messenger. But yeah, I met a firefighter, seems like a good guy, so I don't think you have to play Sherlock on this one. What about you, how is your girlfriend?" Gus tossed the question out, despite not wanting to know anything at all about the redhead she had seen him with at the hockey game. In fact, Gus was perfectly content believing that the rink had swallowed the other woman and Flack had lost all memory of having met her.

"Girlfriend?" Flack responded, unsure he wanted to answer, because despite the blank expression on her face, he did not like what he was seeing in Gus' eyes, because it looked a lot like suffering.

"The redhead?" Gus pressed him, trying to focus her attentions on her desk.

"Oh Devon, yeah, well-" Flack started but was cut off by his phone. After doing more listening than talking, Flack gave Gus a long look, "I gotta go, got some info in my hit and run. But let's do something later, okay?"

Gus nodded why trying to decipher both 'something' and 'later' while trying to not wish ill will on this Devon girl she had never eve spoken to.

"_Did you see the looks of the one that junior pulled?" "I don't know how he does it, it ain't natural."_

"_No kidding' huh, musta made a deal with the devil." "Flack sure does have a taste for some high class broads. Though what someone like that is doing with one of us..." "Maybe we should go ask Broussard?"_

Gus sucked in a long breath, she shouldn't have heard any of the conversation, shouldn't have even been in the locker room to hear t guys through the vent, but she had been replenishing the contents of her locker and now she was caught between anger and agony. Storming out of the women's locker and slamming open the door to the men's with a slap of her open palm, Gus bellowed into the locker room, "Broussard is one of you, assholes, and legacy at that if you recall. And Flack pulls high class broads, because he doesn't talk about them all the damn time in the god damn locker room!" Gus backed out, letting the door slam shut to further accent her words. She stormed out of the precinct, ignoring the questions and calls following her and barely made it home before she collapsed in a sobbing heap on the hardwood floor of her apartment.

* * *

Gus spent the next day patently ignoring both Flack and most of the guys in the pit. She holed up in the conference room with the most high profile of the cold cases, in addition to running back and forth to the lab for updated test results. She looked tormented enough to keep anyone from actually asking questions, except, of course for Lyons; but then again that was his job.

"Interesting outburst, Gus, but was it more about being one of the guys or being protective of Flack?"

"Both, in addition to feeling more than a bit territorial" Gus snapped to her psychiatrist.

"Despite the fact that other appropriate men have shown interest in you?"

"And that I was the one that left him? Believe me, I know it isn't fair. I know I should just move on, Flack is, but I can't help but feel like there is still something there, that we were meant to be, ya know? Oh forget it, I know it sounds irrational."

"Love often does" Lyons pointed out, "but what about working with him then, about getting back in the field?"

"I know I keep saying that I feel like I have unfinished business, but I do want to try up a few of the cold cases."

"And then?"

"Then I gotta pull up my big girl panties and deal with reality, even if it means I only get Flack on a professional level. I need to be back on the team to feel whole again. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?" Gus flashed Lyons a smile that appeared genuine, even if Gus was having to put a lot of effort into it.

"Have you thought about just asking him for another chance?"

"I think I have used up more than my fair of chances."

"You won't know that unless you ask, Gus."

"Not there yet, Doc."

"You'll be waiting forever if you wait for the right time" Lyons warned as he signaled that their session was over.

Gus felt about pulling Flack aside a thousand times, of getting on her knees and begging him to give her a chance she didn't deserve. Gus almost called him a million times in the dark of night, just to tell him all the things that threatened to suffocate her when she tried to sleep. But she couldn't bring herself to do it; whether it was pride or fear, Gus wasn't sure. She was sure that Flack seemed to have forgotten about something and later, and she wasn't going to push. The only problem was that the rest of the team appeared caught up in various pursuits and even her potential fireman was working a week on, week off rotation and was chained to the station house. The isolation was beginning to get to her.

Gus was outside the precinct, hours after she should have been home, unable to face the emptiness of her apartment. She barely registered Flack exiting beside her. "Hey, I thought you had left forever ago" he said, in surprise, and noticed her eyes shimmering.

"Nope, should have, but I got stuck with one of my cases. Needed some fresh air" Gus sniffed, "What about you?"

Flack shrugged, "Was going to get some coffee, ya wanna come?" Gus nodded, afraid to speak.

They walked down to the diner, each careful to not stand too close or too far apart, a fact that made Gus' heart ache with each step. "Heard ya busted into the locker room" Flack said after they were seated and a waitress brought them their coffees.

"Of course you did" Gus replied, absently stirring her drink.

"Thanks, I guess" Flack said, drumming his fingers on the table.

"It wasn't just about you" Gus retorted, feeling the acid rise in her throat.

"I know" Flack said, his voice steadier than his heart. Gus gave a little nod but didn't say anything. "You coming back to the field yet? I could really use you." Flack said after a few agonizing moments of silence.

Gus bit back all the flirtatious comments she wanted to say, deciding instead upon, "I want to. I gotta finish some of these high profile cold cases first. And Daddino will need my clearance from Lyons. I miss the field, I miss the team, I miss being part of something, ya know?" Gus felt the lump in her throat, and bit back tears, not wanting to be this weak in front of Flack.

"Back at ya" Flack said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood, knowing full well Gus was trying desperately not to cry. Frankly, he didn't think he could handle it if she did start crying, especially since Devon was supposed to be calling him as soon as she was done at the party she had gone to.

Gus rolled her eyes, "Yeah, well, I am pretty fabulous" she chuckled.

Flack felt his chest seize up and the words were out before he could stop them, "Ya are, ya know that right? Don't forget it, and don't let the firebug forget it either."

Gus suddenly felt like they were both slipping uncontrollably toward the center of a vortex, and she was desperate to stop them from falling. "The firebug and I haven't even been out. Only thing worse than trying to get two cops' schedules to sink up is trying to get NYPD and NYFD schedules to in any way resemble each other" she gave a small smile and continued, "plus, did you know they can moonlight as bartenders? It is encouraged in some precincts, because they can help with crowd control,we are just forced to drink but not serve, huh?" Gus realized she was babbling, and sucked in a long breath to stop.

"Um, well, that's interesting" Flack replied, unsure of what to say, and more than slightly relieved when his phone rang. "Flack, uh-huh, really, I'll meet you there. Soon. No, I won't use my lights and sirens." Gus leaned back, trying to ignore the conversation, and trying even harder to ignore the look of lust she had seen wash over Flack's eyes. As he clipped his phone back on his belt, he gave Gus an apologetic look, "Sorry, I gotta go-" he cut off, starting to blush.

"Have fun, Flack. I am sure Devon is a great girl. She certainly is a lucky one."

Flack gave Gus a quick peck on the cheek, may as well have been from a relative and headed out the door, before exiting he turned and said, "I want you back in the field, asap, sunshine."

As he disappeared into the night, Gus dropped her head to the table and mumbled, "funny, I just want you."

"Need a refill, sweetie?" the waitress asked.

"Sure, and a spork to dig my heart out with" Gus said to the now confused waitress.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Where Will You Go?**

Gus wandered back to the precinct, figuring she may as well put all her pent up energy into her cases. And clean up her desk. She worked furiously, so much that no one bothered her. She was able to get a lot of useful information from the night shift at the lab on old evidence, since not much was going on. Gus was shocked, and happy, to see that Mac wasn't still around given the late hour. Plunging into a feat of organization, Gus worked the night away, radio calls keeping her company. It was a fairly quiet night, not surprising given it was the middle of the week and no major events were taking place. She was deep in her notes when she heard the 10-31 come over the radio. Judging from the address, Gus mused that the uptown burglar's were at it again. "Hopefully it isn't another brass' place" she quipped heading back to her notes. Gus stopped again when she heard the 10-80 call and couldn't believe someone was foolish enough to chase after the burglars, especially in a commandeered taxi. "He's going to have to answer to someone tomorrow" Gus said, and then looking at the clock, "today."

Gus worked for another couple of hours, lost in her thoughts in the conference room, until she realized the sun was rising and she should probably get showered up. Happy she had restocked her locker with enough belongings that she could spend a couple of weeks at the precinct, Gus emerged from the locker room looking nothing like a woman who had been up all night working on cold cases. Which was a good thing, considering Gus nearly literally ran into brass on her way down for coffee. "Good morning, Chief Sinclair" she greeted the man politely.

Sinclair studied her for a long moment, almost too long. Gus wasn't sure if he was leering at her or trying to place who the hell she was. Sinclair looked the young woman over carefully, he had kept a close watch on her file since becoming Chief of Detectives. Hard not to, given her clearance rate, even though she took off for the summer, she had more than impressed her brass there. "Detective, or Doctor, I never know what to call you, Broussard. You are here awfully early. But the early bird catches the worm" Sinclair, laughed, patting her on the back.

"Er, so they say, sir. And, uh detective is fine" Gus nodded at the man and went to part ways, but he stopped her.

"Walk with me a bit, please" he requested, motioning for Gus to follow.

She complied, curious as to what the man wanted, and hoping she hadn't somehow pissed him off.

"You know detective, you have one of the highest clearance rates in homicide. Something you continued even on your little...sabbatical... in New Orleans. I've been checking up on you. I wasn't aware you were legacy until recently" Sinclair continued to give Gus a smile that made her uneasy. He continued, "I think you are being wasted working on cold cases."

Gus thought crap this guy was keeping close tabs on her, she laughed nervously, "Well, I don't plan to be doing that forever, sir."

"I should hope not. I just feel someone with your...talents could be better utilized. Have you thought about working with the public information department?"

Gus tried to not give away her true feelings, she hadn't gone to school for most of her life or clawed her way through homicide just to become another pretty PR face, "I am afraid it wouldn't be the right fit for me, sir." Gus realized they had walked to Sinclair's car and his driver was holding the door open.

"Take a ride with me" he said, motioning for Gus to slide in first. Not wanting to argue with one of the top dogs, she complied again. After settling himself Sinclair posed another question, "What about major case? We certainly could use more women there. Especially of your caliber. And this all this spy burglar nonsense going on" he stopped to take a sheaf of papers from his assistant in the front seat.

"It is bizarre to say the least. I heard about your house, I am sorry for your loss, I know it must be difficult" Gus looked at Sinclair gravely, knowing all to well the pain of loosing things that were important to you.

"That is what insurance is for, I suppose. Though it is the sentimental things that cannot be replaced" he looked up at her from the papers, "but I suppose you know all about that."

"Unfortunately. But Chief, I really do like working homicide. Though I understand if the department needs me elsewhere that is a condition of my employment" Gus was unsure of imparting this piece of wisdom on him, but she figured he knew all about her already.

He gave a small chuckle, "I am glad you like working homicides, because we are on the way to a scene now. Body found on Bond street. Believe it may be one of the burglars."

"Chief, I am not sure I am cleared for field duty" Gus pointed out.

"You are certainly cleared to observe" Sinclair said before switching gears, "Your former partner sure is causing a stir."

"Sir?" Gus squeaked, wondering what was going on.

"High speed chases, even if after highly wanted suspects are frowned upon by the department. Fodder for the media, who is already having a field day with this one, suspects repelling down from Upper West Side penthouses. Practically a spy novel" Sinclair said, handing the _New York Post_ over to Gus.

Sure enough the front page headline read "Bond versus Blue: Spy Squad Strikes Again." Gus skimmed the article determining that Flack had been the idiot from last night in the commandeered taxi, though she couldn't quite piece together how he happened upon the burglary.

The car came to a stop, the driver opening the doors for both of them to slide out. Gus followed Sinclair under the crime scene tape, taking in Hawkes and Mac processing a body in a tuxedo lying on the sidewalk. She stood suppressing a snicker as Sinclair gave Flack a good dressing down about his high speed pursuit a few hours before. A small snort escaped as Sinclair walked off with Mac and Hawkes shot Flack a look. Flack raised his eyebrows and became intent on his memo pad. Gus was about to make a comment when Hawkes spoke up, "They hit Sinclair's house and they hit you. Maybe they are targeting cops?"

Gus furrowed her forehead and then felt slapped by Flack's response. "Only problem with that is that it was my girlfriend's place"

Hawkes looked just as confused, sliding a quick look up to Gus before asking incredulously, "Girlfriend, how long has that been going on?"

"A couple of weeks" Flack answered, completely casually, avoiding looking at Gus.

Gus fought back gagging while the men exchanged a 'guy code' look. She kneeled next to the body to hide her growl and studied the victim while the boys joined Mac to look at skid marks on the pavement.

"Not everyday you find a scalped vic" Gus commented as the body was loaded into the ME's van.

"Nope sure don't" Hawkes replied, looking over at her curiously.

"Stop studying me, Sheldon, I am fine. I knew he was seeing someone. Even if I didn't know he was at the girlfriend stage" Gus said, trying to put her friend at ease.

"You knew?" Hawkes asked, not sure how to take the news; not sure how Gus was actually taking the news.

"I just want him to be happy, Sheldon" Gus said, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

"But-" Hawkes started, but Gus shot him a look. "Maybe we should catch up" he finished.

Gus nodded slowly, "That would be great, everyone has been preoccupied lately."

"Riding with the brass" Flack said, coming up behind them and clamping a hand on Gus' shoulder. Hawkes quickly disappeared. "Are you back in the field?" Flack asked, coming around to her side.

Gus shook her head, "No I just ran into him going for a coffee run, which I never did get" she sulked.

Flack looked at his watch, "Shocked he was in so early. Shocked you were in so early" he dimpled down to her.

"I didn't leave" Gus admitted.

"Last night? You stayed in the pit all night? You turning into Mac on me?" he looked taken aback.

"I was in the middle of things. Guess everyone was" she replied acridly, before turning on her heel and walking back toward where Sinclair was dealing with the media.

"Get a uniform to bring you back, I want you working with Taylor and the rest on this case" Sinclair ordered.

"I, er, fine" Gus said, knowing better than to argue.

* * *

**Chapter 19: This Much Fun**

"You need a ride?" Hawkes asked cautiously, having caught the exchanges Gus had had with both Flack and Sinclair.

"I guess so" Gus replied, her jaw working.

On the way back to the lab, Hawkes kept sneaking looks at Gus, her jaw still tight and her silence deafening. He felt torn between wanting to question and knowing to leave well enough alone. This situation only further proved the reasoning behind any unwritten policies of avoiding fraternization in the department. However, that did not stop Hawkes from feeling for each of his friends.

"Thanks for not pushing me, Sheldon" Gus said in the elevator up to the lab.

"You know how to find me if you want to talk" Hawkes replied, giving her arm a slight squeeze.

Gus nodded, "Mind if I hang out with you while you run trace?"

"It isn't that exciting, but sure" he said, striding off to the lab. Gus watched as Hawkes processed the victim's clothing, picking up a variety of nearly invisible particles. "Huh" Hawkes said, peering over a slide, "how were you in biology?" he asked, waving her over.

"What do you think?" Gus grinned, leaning over the microscope.

"Butterfly scales?" Gus asked, after studying the slide for a moment.

"Of a variety of species. Moths as well" Hawkes said, placing another slide on the microscope for Gus to look at.

"Hey Hawkes, tell me you got something, because I have had no luck with an id on this John Doe. Prints didn't hit in AFIS and nothing yet from missing persons" Stella said coming in to the trace lab. "Hey Gus" Stella said curiously, giving the younger woman a smile with a tad too much pity in it.

Gus repressed a growl, as Hawkes held up a slide to Stella. "Maybe these can tell us who he is" Hawkes said. "Scales from a butterfly wing?" Stella questioned.

"There were at least twenty different species of scales on the vic's tux" Hawkes explained.

"Guy had a regular butterfly garden going on" Gus quipped.

Hawkes furrowed his brow for a moment, "But what's weird is, these species don't normally group together in nature."

Stella caught Gus' statement and her eyes, "Maybe not in nature but they do at the Manhattan Conservatory."

"Bit overdressed for a nature walk, though, don't you think?" Gus observed, "unless there was a benefit."

"Can you check on that?" Stella asked, "and good work on trace, Hawkes" Stella said bustling out.

Gus had her answer quickly, "Hey Stel, there was most certainly some mucky muck benefit Museum last night, patron party was in the Conservatory. Event planners are cleaning up from it right now."

"Hopefully they can id the vic then" Stella said, hoping for a lead. Stopping mid-stride, she turned to look at Gus, worry creasing her forehead for a brief moment, "Are you good to come with Flack and I?"

Gus raised her eyebrows, "Sinclair says I am on the case, I am on the case. Would you argue with him?"

Stella shook her curls, "Not exactly what I meant" she replied, thinking back to the scene in Devon's apartment. Stella didn't know what to make of the young woman Flack had been with, or how serious the situation was between the two of them. She was certain that Devon was not the type of woman she would have pegged Flack with even during his rabble rousing days with Danny. Stella was also pretty certain that Flack's cool bemusement over being invited to all the "in parties" would quickly turn to disdain. She also was torn between two very different friendships in this whole affair between Gus and Flack. Stella was not sure where to put her her two cents in and where not to, a position that was very uncomfortable for a normally very outspoken woman.

"I am starting to feel like I need to make a team proclamation" Gus muttered and then looking Stella square in the face, "I have been assigned a case and I will do it, regardless of how I feel about certain extracurricular activities. The job comes first, Stella, always."

"Does it?" Stella asked, somewhat rhetorically.

"I'll get Flack, you get the car" Gus said, turning on her heel.

"Feel like getting back to nature?" Gus asked, perching on the edge of Flack's desk, determined to act like she was perfectly fine with recent events.

Flack looked up from his mountain of paperwork, a slightly curious look on his face, "Er, why and where?"

"Don't worry city boy. Just a little trip to the Conservatory to find out if we can id the vic" Gus bit back a chuckle.

"Stella didn't get anything from AFIS?"

Gus shook her head, "Nada. She's brining the car around now." Gus patted Flack's pile of paperwork, "Quite a stack you got going."

Flack cleared his throat, "Yeah, I've fallen a bit behind. It was a lot easier when you were doing it all." Gus bit back any comments and slid wordlessly off his desk and out to where Stella was waiting.

"Some shin dig" Gus whistled taking in all the trucks lined up in the parking lot of the Conservatory.

"No kidding, this party planner is at every hot spot in town" Stella quipped and then under her breath so Gus didn't hear, "You might want to make friends, Flack" she dug in, noticing Flack stiffened at her comment.

They located the event planner quickly, in the middle of the chaos and Stella handed him the photo, "You know this guy?"

"Last night's benefit was A list only, he wasn't here" the well coiffed man replied distractedly talking into his ear piece, "Check up at the Museum, maybe he is an employee."

"Mr. Rodriguez" Flack barked, already losing patience.

"Gay" the man snapped. "Huh?" "Rod-ri-gay, no z, it's Basque."

"Well if its Basque" Gus snarked, rolling her eyes as she stood behind Stella and Flack, observing the flurry of activity.

Flack bit back a laugh and turned his impatience toward Rodrique, "The man was wearing a tuxedo, I don't think he was an employee."

The man was obviously unconcerned with answering any of their questions, and more intent on answering his ringing phone, "Rodrique events. No, no, I said fifty cases of vodka and 100 cases of Gilmore 171" he then moved back to his ear piece, "Maude, where are you?"

Flack pointed, "She's over there" as the man turned, he ripped the ear piece out of his ear, "I got your attention now?" Now it was Gus' turn to bite back laughter, as Stella stood, looking on with disdain.

"Yeah look. I know anyone who is anyone and this anyone did not attend the party last night" Rodrique dripped, handing Stella back the photograph.

"There is no way he could have just slipped in?" Stella pressed on, obviously unimpressed by the man.

"I provide security and guest screening."

"Oh course you do" Stella said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Rodrique quickly turned on even more sarcasm of his own, "Look, I would love to chat, but I have to orchestrate the mayor's benefit tomorrow night, so Maude would you help them please?" He gestured to a pretty young woman who had come up to his side holding a clipboard. Flack handed Rodrique his card with a stern look.

Stella handed Maude the photo asking her if she knew the man. Gus raised her eyebrows at Maude's answer of "Sure, I don't know his name but he was a guest at the party. Towards the end of the night he did get into a fight with some guy."

"Were you close enough to hear what it was about?" Stella questioned.

"No, but Rodrique had to call security."

'The plot thickens' Gus mused to herself, as Stella waved the young woman off. Flack couldn't help but smirk, "Seems Mr. Rodrique has short term memory issues" he said as soon as they had walked a bit away.

Stella smirked back, "Get a guest list and check out a security report. Gus, help with talking to the employees. Let's figure out why the guy who knows anyone who is anyone is lying."

"Well that was freaking useless. God forbid we take five minutes out of an employee's day to talk to us since napkins need to be folded into god damn swans", Gus grumbled as they headed back toward the precinct on foot, Stella having taken the car back to the lab.

Flack laughed, "And I thought this used to be your world."

Gus shot Flack a death glare, "Used to be, another in another life. Didn't mean I ever liked it, so feel free to have it." Flack stopped for a nanosecond and then continued on, contemplating if he wanted to respond to her comment or not. "Just say it" she said, reading his conflict.

"I'm not sure I want it" Flack grumbled, striding ahead in such a way that Gus couldn't keep up the pace. She was unsure if this was his way of cutting off the conversation, but realized he just couldn't look at her as he continued. "I think I got in over my head" Flack admitted, as Gus trotted to keep up, but still stayed slightly back.

"Welcome to the Uptown crowd" Gus sighed, blowing hair out of her face.

Flack stopped and turned to face her so abruptly that Gus ran into him. "Does it ever stop?" he asked, while steadying her.

"You ain't seen nothing yet, blue eyes" Gus quipped, avoiding looking into said eyes, while trying to avoid flushing at Flack's hand on her waist. She shrugged out of his grasp and forged ahead, "You'll be fine, Flack, just keep your wits about you as you charm the pants off them" Gus called over her shoulder, as Flack stood on the sidewalk in contemplation.

"Is that my paperwork?" Flack asked a few of hours later after checking back in with the lab.

Gus nodded, busy filling out the forms, "Had to do something while waiting on missing persons."

"Why don't you try going home and getting sleep, considering you have been here since early yesterday morning" Flack pointed out.

"Not tired" Gus replied.

They sat in silence for a long while, each lost in paperwork until Flack leaned back, "It's really late, Gus" he said gesturing to the clock.

"Yeah, well, it is either work here or work at home and I would rather not lug all these files" Gus replied, "you can leave at any time though, I'm down with your stack."

Flack grabbed the stack of files back with watching as he flipped through them in amazement. "How do you do this?" he asked incredulously.

"Old hat, I keep telling you, and Donnie boy, you were quite behind. I am shocked Loo hasn't been on your ass" Gus smirked, finishing off another folder.

"He has been" Flack retorted, "now please tell me you are ready to come back to the field. I mean Sinclair's already putting you there."

"While I am sure everyone misses my fabulousness" Gus said while rolling her eyes, "I still need to be signed off on."

"Hurry it up, and go home!" Flack demanded.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you are trying to get rid of me" Gus said, gathering her things with a smile, "You might want to head home yourself. See ya in the morning, Flack." Gus gave Flack a finger wave and disappeared from the pit.

Flack watched her retreat and yawned looking at the clock, it was after 3 am, well beyond quitting time even with an active case. He could have left hours ago, could have forced her away from his paperwork, but there was something about just sitting in easy silence with her for a few hours that he needed.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Man On The Run**

_**A/N: Continued Spoilers for 4x03.**_

Morning ended up being sooner rather than later, as Gus was awakened by a flurry of sirens seemingly next to her head and her phone simultaneously ringing. "Broussard, you okay?" her Lieutenant's voice barked over the line.

Gus flew into action, pulling on clothes before responding, "I think so. What's going on, Loo?"

"The gang hit again, in your 'hood, turn your radio on and get dressed" he barked.

"Gotcha" Gus said, hanging up, turning on her radio and pulling her hair back up. "All units be advised, patrols in pursuit of a black sports sedan, last seen driving away from a burglary at 256 Gramercy" the radio squawked. "256 Gramercy what? Gus called agitatedly, holstering her weapon and flying down the stairs of her building.

"West, Suspect vehicle heading southbound on Park Ave" the dispatcher replied.

"Heading straight for the Midtown Tunnel, I bet" Gus mused, stopping short at the crowd of elderly people in their nightclothes standing in the lobby.

"Oh thank goodness, Augusta, dear, please tell us what is going on" Mrs. Potter said latching onto Gus.

"There is nothing for y'all to worry about. Please go back into your apartments.

"But we just saw a bunch of police cars fly right past, did something bad happen?"

Gus knew that news would travel fast, but it was also part of an ongoing investigation. Regardless, she knew more than one little old man in the building also had a police scanner and it was a building full of early risers. "There was a burglary on the West side, no one was hurt and they are chasing the suspects car. I can't tell you anything more, as it is an ongoing investigation. Speaking of which, I have to get to work." The crowd looked at her for a long moment, like expectant children and then finally dispersed, shuffling back to their various apartments mumbling about what good did it do to have a detective in the building if you couldn't get the inside scoop.

Gus was trudging across the park from her building on East 20th when her phone rang again. "Broussard" she answered expecting Daddino or Sinclair.

"Just checking in" came Flack's voice.

"Just checking in, better be glad I wasn't asleep" Gus retorted, but couldn't keep the smile out of her voice.

"The spy gang hits less than a block from your place, didn't think they would be letting you sleep" Flack retorted.

"They didn't, mind you I was sleeping like a baby when Daddino called" Gus sniffed.

"Ah, poor thing" Flack said unconvincingly.

"You coming out?" Gus asked, trying to remain nonchalant and debating if she should duck back into her place depending on the answer.

"Yeah, as soon as I shower. Major Case is angling for this thing, and Sinclair very well may give it to them" Flack said.

"But you want in, don't you?" Gus picked up on what Flack was leaving out.

"Hell yeah, it is the closest I'll ever get to being a spy" Flack sounded like an excited boy.

Gus couldn't help but laugh, "I'll go beat them off then. See ya when you get here" she said hanging up.

Gus arrived at the stoop of the building, where a crowd was already forming. A normally quiet block, the sirens and car chase had brought out most of the neighborhood, or so it seemed to Gus as she pushed her way through. "Sorry, miss, this is a crime scene" a uniform informed her as she was stringing out the tape in front of the building.

"Detective Broussard, homicide" Gus said flashing her badge.

"No reports of a body, but go ahead" the uniform said with a shrug, lifting the tape. "How did you get here so fast?" she asked Gus.

"Live over there," Gus replied, thumbing in the direction behind her.

"Detective, huh? Musta been hired on the old pay scale" the woman sniffed.

"Something like that." Gus entered the well appointed lobby and took in the frazzled looking doorman, concierge and security guard.

It amazed Gus the difference half a block could make in the real estate, but then again a couple of blocks from her place back in New Orleans had been a crack house, so it really wasn't much different.

Gus was not the least bit shocked that the burglary had taken place in the penthouse suite, she was taken aback by the young age of the victim and the fact that the penthouse took up the entire top floor.

"No one touch a thing" she ordered the uniforms that were standing and gawking in the foyer. "Crime scene is going to want to go over this place with a fine tooth comb" Gus ordered, holding her badge up.

"Broussard" one of the uniforms called out, crossing over to her.

"Isaacs" she called, happy to see a familiar face.

"Heard yous was back from your summer in the big sleazy. And taking over, huh? You can boss me around anytime" the man said, slapping her on the back.

"Good, I'm starting now. There is only one uniform outside, and that crowd is growing quickly. I am certain media outlets will be descending soon as will rush hour, we are going to need traffic control as well. The park is bad enough in the morning" Gus held up her finger as her phone started to ring, "Broussard."

"Detective" came Sinclair's voice, "I presume you are already on scene, as I told Daddino to call you and I know you lived close by."

"Yes, sir, I am here now, securing the scene and setting up the perimeter" Gus answered, wondering what else the man may want.

"Very good."

"Just what the hell is homicide doing here, I don't think there was a body" came an angry shout of a Major Case detective behind her.

Gus whirled to stare the man down, "Sir could you define 'very good' for me?" she asked Sinclair.

"I take it Major Case has arrived? Let me speak to them, please" Sinclair demanded.

"Sure thing, sir" Gus said handing her phone over to the detective without telling him who it was.

The detective snatched it and bellowed, "Bad enough we have the media all over this thing like it is a spy movie and the feds clamoring for some action, but now I've got homicide snooping around where there are no bodies!" Gus watched as the blood drained from the man's face. "Sorry, sir, yes, Sinclair, I understand. No, no, yes, and again I am truly sorry." The detective sheepishly handed the phone back to Gus. Gus stopped herself from sticking out her tongue at the first grade detective, though she thought about it long and hard. "I don't know what or who you are doing, girly, but I am keeping my eye on you" the man warned, poking a finger into Gus' chest.

"Bite me" Gus yelled as the man stormed off back downstairs.

"Making friends with Major Case, huh?" Isaacs asked.

"You know it. Anyway, could you work on the crowd and traffic control, and send Flack up when he gets here" Gus said with a shrug.

"You two back together?" Isaacs asked.

Gus wrinkled her nose, "We are working together on this case, if that is what you are asking. Now go, before they eat the poor woman down there." Gus secured the apartment with the help of a couple of uniforms, while the owner went to "get pretty."

Gus was leaning against the wall of the hallway leading to the penthouse with her eyes closed when she heard Flack's voice whisper in her ear, "No sleeping on the job, Broussard."

"Very funny, Flack" Gus replied without opening her eyes, "I got a uniform parked just inside the door and Miss Thing is taking a shower. Wanted to look pretty for the Page Six reporter" Gus shrugged and opened her eyes with a yawn. Flack just raised his eyebrows and handed her a huge cup of steaming coffee. "Bless you" she said, taking the cup and patting his face.

"Thanks for clearing the scene, Gus" Stella said, coming up with her kit.

"No problem. I'm going to go question the neighbors now. Shouldn't be hard since they are all standing in the lobby" Stella remarked, taking a long look between Gus and Flack. "Have fun y'all" Gus said with a yawn.

"Gus looks beat" Stella remarked, heading into the apartment.

"I don't think she's been sleeping much. She was at the precinct all of the night before last and she didn't leave last night until after 3" Flack shrugged, running his hands through his hair.

"Why do I get the feeling she is still getting over this summer?" Stella asked, directing a couple of field technicians to start fingerprinting.

"Aren't we all?" Flack retorted.

"Some more than others" Stella remarked under her breath as she walked toward the open window and assumed escape route.

"Why hello" came a voice of a attractive blond woman dressed skimpily for 7am, "what happened to the other detective?"

"Detective Broussard is questioning your neighbors, I'm Detective Flack. Now why don't you walk me through what happened?" Flack listened as the woman told a story remarkably similar to the one he had experienced first hand the night before last, minus the making out in the living room and car chase. Flack caught one of the uniforms reading the _New York Post_ out of the corner of his eyes. The cover had a photograph of their still unidentified vic on the cover. "Give me that" Flack said, snatching the paper out of the uniforms hands. "Hey" the guy protested, but walked away seeing the detective was in a less than pleasant mood.

"That was him, he was here, in my bedroom" the woman exclaimed as Flack handed her the newspaper.

"He was here, last night, that was the guy who was here?"

"That's what I just told Page Six" the woman smiled flirtatiously. Flack sighed in disbelief, grabbing the paper back and heading to where Stella was processing an open window.

Flack came out of the building a while later, as Gus was giving up on the other occupants of the building. Once again, no one had seen anything, not even the early rising joggers. "Guess joggers only find bodies" she sighed, walking over to Flack's side, "How about you?"

"The vic id'ed our 24 hours dead body, hard to be a burglar from a tray in the morgue. And according to Stella somewhere in this city we got a glowing thief who may be our killer" Flack said with a note of weariness.

"Glowing?"

"Something about smart water, high tech security systems and what not" Flack shrugged.

"Exciting" Gus made a face, "I'm going to catch a shower, but see ya at the precinct."

Gus headed immediately toward the lab after getting to the precinct. The case had gotten under her skin and not just because it involved Flack and his uppity new girlfriend, but also because Sinclair was overly interested in her involvement and now it had impacted her neighborhood. She wanted it solved so she could get back to cold cases and on normal homicides that didn't feel like they were out of a movie. A happy surprise, she ran into Mac at the elevators.

"Gus" he said, still looking weary.

"Mac" Gus responded, studying him carefully, "did you go home last night?"

"Did you?" Mac retorted as they stepped on to the elevator.

"Yes, it was where I was when I got called over to the latest burglary. Good avoidance of my question though" Gus smiled up at her uncle with concern flooding her eyes.

Mac looked back at her, also concerned, "We should talk" he said gravely.

Gus pushed down feelings of fear, and nodded, "Yeah we should. You still getting calls?"

Mac started to speak as the elevator doors opened and Danny called out, "Hey boss."

Gus wandered slightly away, pretending to be interested in whatever was going on in one of the labs as Danny informed Mac of the car part and brake fluid he had found close to the scene. She wished she had gone for coffee instead, when Flack came through and Danny teased him about his new girlfriend. "Make that a real drink" she said to herself as Flack informed Mac that missing persons had finally gotten a hit on their vic.

"James Stanton, heir to the Stanton fortune. Parents reported him missing this morning. They had no idea their son had a dual career as a secret agent and a thief."

"Took 'em long enough" Gus said, "glad they called you."

"They called your desk, got kicked to me" Flack replied.

Mac wearily handed the file to Gus, "Follow up please" he said. Gus nodded and walked off, vowing to get together with her uncle sooner rather than later.

"How you doing?" Danny asked as soon as she rounded the corner.

"Be better once this case is solved, Messer" Gus replied with a wry smile and continuing back towards the pit.

Danny gripped her arm,"I meant about Flack and the you know" Danny gestured.

"Ah, do you mean the girlfriend? Peachy keen, Danny, why wouldn't I be. Now if you don't mind, I got a guy to follow up on and you have a car to track down" Gus said, breaking loose and walking quickly away.

Gus was trying to run information on Stanton, when Flack came back down looking distracted. "What's up?" she asked as he sat down and immediately started working his phone.

"Just something I gotta work on" Flack said, meeting her gaze, "For Mac."

Gus guessed immediately that Mac had revealed something to Flack about his 333 calls, and wondered if he now knew more than she did. 'Lunch or dinner w/ Mac ASAP' Gus scrawled on her to do list.

"I gotta go talk to the tech guys about Stanton's computer in a bit, but I want to talk to you about Mac when you get back, okay?" Gus said a while later as Flack was leaving to go to a car guy that Danny had tracked down from the under panel found at the scene.

"Yeah, maybe we should" Flack said, before heading out.

Gus was trying to squeeze every last morsel of information about Stanton from IT when alarms started sounding. "What the hell is that?" she asked one of the guys. "Security Breach. Somebody has gotten past our firewall and are accessing the computers" he tapped away on the keyboard "in the Crime Lab." He tapped some more, "That's weird it seems to be coming from inside the building. Morris, call building security." Gus mumbled a thanks to the guy about the information she had gotten and tore off towards the lab.

She arrived in the lab just as the power shut down and noticed a flickering coming from a lab table where Mac, Lindsay, and Hawkes were. Feeling a bit like she was lost in the Twilight Zone, Gus hesitantly pushed open the door to the lab. Hawkes appeared to be dissecting the tux worn by the victim that was still on the table. "What the hell?" she asked as Hawkes pulled out what looked like copper wire from inside the suit.

"It's micro-technology in the lining. Stanton and his cohort weren't just stealing jewelry, they were hacking into people's personal computers and electronics as well, and committing identity theft" Gus explained excitedly to Flack back in the pit after getting the information from Hawkes.

"It wasn't about the money at all. They wanted identities and fame" Flack surmised and then read over the fax that had come in for him while he was out questioning Eliot Gano, the car guy.

"What is it, Flack, you look like you have seen a ghost!" Gus' asked, her eyes wide.

"Not here" he said, rising from his desk and motioning her to follow him. "What do you know about what's been going on with Mac?" Flack asked as soon as they were in a deserted hallway.

"I know he's seemed tired and Peyton is still in London and they lost his luggage" she cut off, seeing Flack growing impatient. "He told you about the calls, huh?"

"Yeah, he also had me run some information from JFK after another call. I just got the fax and it turns out whoever is calling him was on his plane back from London" Flack said, his jaw tightening.

"Do you think he's in some sort of danger?" Gus squeaked out, feeling a little light headed.

"I don't know. I am going to try to convince him to get a threat assessment done and have a duty put on him" Flack's jaw worked furiously, his protective nature showing clearly on his face.

"Good luck with that" Gus sighed.

"I know, maybe you could talk to him after I do. And keep your eye out for the passenger manifest, it's in the works."

"I will. And thanks Flack" Gus said, giving his arm a squeeze.

"Mac's a good guy" Flack replied, leaving unsaid how much the man meant to both of them.

* * *

**Chapter 21: Misty Falls**

_**A/N: Final spoilers for 4x03. Once again, if it seems like deja vu, it ain't mine, it belongs to TPTB.**_

Hours later, after going on a fishing expedition with Stanton's family to try to figure out why a young man of such means would want to steal other peoples' identities, Gus arrived back at the precinct and ran into Flack. After doing a double take at his attire, she broke into a grin, "A little overdressed for the pit, don't you think there, James Bond?"

"What, you don't like it?" Flack grinned, smoothing down his tux jacket with his dimples clearly showing.

"You are such a boy" Gus teased, and leaned in to fix his bow tie, "Another benefit?"

"Of sorts, trail led back to Rodrique" Flack replied, ignoring Gus' snort, "And Stella and I figure Stanton's partner is probably going to be at the mayor's shin dig tonight. Hence the penguin suit. You get anything from the parents?"

"Nope, normal grieving parents having the same hard time I am believing their pampered baby boy was into identity theft" Gus shrugged and then broke into a wolf whistle that startled Flack as Stella entered the pit. "Damn girl!" she exclaimed taking in Stella's low cut sequined get up.

"Told you formal gowns don't have to be fluffy" Stella said with a little twirl, causing every man currently in the pit to salivate.

"You win, but I am not even going to ask where your piece is" Gus laughed.

"Come on Flack, we got a bad guy to catch" Stella laughed back, twirling the car keys.

"She can do anything in heels" Gus exclaimed to their retreating figures.

"She can do anything she wants to me in anything" Montgomery gulped from behind her.

Bored of paperwork and stonewalled on the Stanton case, Gus called Lindsay to see if she wanted to go grab a drink. Gus was gathering her belongings to meet up with her friend, when she heard the radio relay yet another 10-31 called in. She switched channels to hear Flack calling for deployment of security barricades. Figuring something big had to be going down, she headed up to the lab to break her much needed drinks date with Lindsay. Lindsay was just about to step on the elevator Gus was on when Danny came running toward them excitedly, "Oh Montana, hold up. Evidence is coming in on the James Stanton murder and we have a date with it."

Gus watched as Lindsay's face filled with excitement, "We got the car?"

"You make the coffee, I'll go get the Batmobile. Sorry Broussard, looks like drinks will have to wait until tomorrow night." Danny waved to Gus.

"I'm holding you to that, Danny" Gus laughed and headed back downstairs to observe the interrogation of whatever suspect Stella and Flack had collared.

Stella and Mac were already gathered around the mirror facing into the interrogation room. "Is that Maude?" Gus asked incredulous.

"Sure is. Found her with smart water all over her face at the mayor's benefit" Stella replied, poking at a hand held tablet in her hand.

"Lab get another new toy?" Gus joked, pointing.

Mac ignored the exchange taking the tablet from Stella. "We still don't have anything that directly connects her to the murder." Mac tapped the screen, "Airbag didn't deploy when the car crashed. Stanton's COD was crushed asphyxiation."

Gus looked on at Flack interrogating Maude, he was sticking it to her pretty good. Out of her periphery she heard Stella mention something about Maude fixing the airbag to kill Stanton and Mac arguing about brake fluid and how it seemed the line would have been cut, something Maude would have most likely done to herself.

Gus was asking herself who would then as Mac spoke up, "A Q wannabe. Always behind the scenes, never got to use his own inventions..."

Stella also perked up, "Which means there was a third gang member who wanted both Maude and Stanton killed."

"We need the science to prove it" Mac said before walking off, leaving the tablet with Stella.

"If she hasn't cracked yet, with as much force as Flack is putting into it, I don't think she is going to crack" Gus pointed out to Stella.

"I think I agree" Stella said with a nod.

"So other than catching your not quite a Bond girl, how was the Mayor's benefit, hot mama?" Gus teased.

"You know the scene. Though I think Flack may be in the dog house" Stella gestured into the interrogation room without thinking.

"What for?" Gus asked, curious.

Stella realized she was about to spill out the whole exchange she had unwittingly witnessed between Flack and Devon, but didn't want to crush Gus' already fragile spirits. "I just don't know how long Flack will be able to run with the Uptown crowd, that's all" Stella said, "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go change."

"Probably better for the hearts of every man in here, Stel" Gus agreed with a smile.

Gus watched as Flack finished up with Maude and caught him outside of the room. "How was playing with the high rollers?" she asked, leaning against the wall, her legs crossed in a pose of relaxation.

"Would have been better if that one would just confess" Flack replied, fiddling with his tux studs.

"Would only work if she actually killed Stanton" Gus pointed out.

"You don't think she did?" Flack questioned.

"Nope, she did have the brains behind the operation, she was clearly the beauty with an inside track to the hot parties. Mac is waiting for science to tell us who 'Q' is, but it sure as hell ain't Maude" Gus sniffed.

"Put your money where your mouth is, Broussard?" Flack teased.

"One casino night and you think you can play with me? Fine, Flack, but let's keep it to food" Gus smirked.

Flack returned the expression, "Dinner, not from a cart"

"Deal" Gus said, sticking out her hand, "Now change out of your tux before you get too many penguin comments in the pit."

"Yes ma'am" Flack said with a mock salute.

"Any news from the lab?" Flack asked sliding into his desk chair some time later.

"Not yet, but check this out" Gus said turning on the tv mounted in the corner.

Flack rubbed his eyes as he took in the blurb about Sinclair, "Sinclair's caught up in sexual harassment and they think he had an affair? Where the hell did that come from?"

Gus chewed her lip, "Apparently an email got leaked, I am thinking it must have been from the break in at his house."

"Glad I'm not him" Flack said and then went to answer his ringing phone. "Flack, yeah, really? Are you sure? Yeah, I'll be right there." Flack hung up and gave Gus a look.

"What?"

"Looks like you win dinner" Flack sighed.

Gus refrained from being a sore loser, "Oh really?"

Flack couldn't hold back his smile, "Yes, really. Turns out the air bag was rigged to not deflate and that was what killed Stanton. Danny and Lindsay found traces of cayenne pepper on it and the brake calipers. Stella remembered that a guy from the car shop had a nail biting problem."

"And pepper is used to stop nail biting, except in the swamp where it wouldn't deter you from eating your own hand" Gus pointed out.

"Well luckily not here, so we have a suspect and they are brining Mr. Rody in now."

"Back to interrogation then?" Gus asked.

"Back to interrogation" Flack said with a smile.

Gus observed as Flack played the friendly car aficionado with Rody, chatting about the modifications expertly made to the car. Gus ignored the punch she felt as Flack brought up his girlfriend again, though she couldn't push back the annoyance at his unprofessionalism at mentioning her in to a suspect in the first place, and watched as Stella moved in for the kill. It didn't take long for Rody to crack, with the young man bemoaning the lack of being able to 'wear the suit and get the girl', and under better circumstances Gus may have felt for the guy, but not tonight, not after all the news about Flack and his apparently heating up relationship.

"You want that dinner now or later?" Flack asked after a uniform had taken Rody to be processed.

"I'm going to go with later" Gus said with a yawn, "I feel like I am dragging big time."

"Can't blame you there. Between you and Mac, it's like we got a zombie pack walking around here" Flack said, his eyes softening the words.

"Always with the flattery" Gus dripped, "I'll let you off on dinner if you buy me a couple of drinks tomorrow night. I think the whole gang is going out, you know to celebrate and to catch Adam up on all the action he missed since he took his little cruise."

"I've missed that little geek" Flack admitted, "though I suppose he more than deserved a vacation." Flack looked at Gus for a long beat, thinking about going down the road of deserved vacations, but thought better of it. "Drinks tomorrow could be fun" he said instead, and then remembering the text message he had gotten earlier, "but I am sure I have plans to be trotted out tomorrow that I just don't know about yet."

Gus snorted, "I think I am going to buy you a Burberry leash for Christmas."

"Laugh riot, Broussard" Flack said, trying to ignore the pain that was clearly displayed on Gus' face, despite her desperate attempts to remain jovial and unaffected. "Real dinner it is then" Flack said, after clearing his throat, "soon, that way we can talk about what to do with Mac."

"Works for me" Gus said turning away. Turning back with a playful and wistful smile she quipped, "Good work out there, Flack...Don Flack."

Flack's reply was to playfully throw a wad of paper at her and say, "Get some sleep, Gus, you have obviously gone delirious."


	6. Slow Down

**Chapter 22: All American Man**

Gus' next day brought a fruitful session with Lyons that helped solidify her feeling that she needed to be back in the field and additional discussions on her latest crop of jealousy about Flack and his 'girlfriend'. "Is it any woman or something about this one?" Lyons fished.

"Oh I am sure it would be any, but this one takes the cake. The only thing worse than this plastic Uptown girl would be someone else on the force. At least with this Devon character, I can pretend he is working out some latent fantasy" Gus retorted, angrily shredding her tissue.

"And if it was someone else on the force?" Lyons pressed on.

"Don't even think about making me go there, Doc, I can barely deal with what is in front of me as it is."

"And what about you and this firefighter?"

"A relentless game of phone tag. I know I should just get back in the game, so to speak, so maybe I should force an opportunity with someone not in a civil servant position" Gus said with a smile, "or an attorney or a shrink or..."

"You keep adding to that list and you are going to run out of eligible men in the city" Lyons joked.

"I clearly know that no one is going to be able to compare to Flack at this point, as much as I know that he needs to work through this little affair on his own. Maybe we can try to patch things up in the future, but for right now, I just want to be able to work with him on a daily basis."

"You feel you have reached that point?"

"Only one way to figure that out, I suppose. And I do love my job and I want to get back to doing it" Gus admitted.

"In that case" Lyons said with a grin on his face and his pen poised, "Looks like I have a couple of forms to fill out."

Back in the pit, Gus waded through the paperwork on her desk and tried to make sense of the cold cases. A much needed coffee break in the lab solidified plans with Hawkes and Danny to go see a movie, but girl's night was once again pushed back because Stella and Lindsay were both working late. "I feel like I haven't had a chance to talk to them in forever" Gus bemoaned.

"I think you will find a way to live. Especially since a little bird told me you were back in the field" Danny teased.

"By little bird you don't happen to mean a six foot plus former partner of mine, do you?" Gus shot back.

"Maybe. So are you two going to working back together?"

"I am certain we will be working on some of the same cases. Sinclair seems to have a thing with me working with the lab" Gus shrugged, evading Danny's true line of questioning.

Danny decided to not push it, "Huh, well, glad you are back. Meet you out front later, okay?"

"See you then Messer" Gus said, going back to her desk.

"Why don't we go this way?" Danny said nervously, yanking a hold of Gus' wrist and spinning her away from the building.

"What the hell, Messer?" Gus exclaimed, breaking free from his grasp and plummeting forward. Picking herself up from a heap on the sidewalk as Danny tried to block her line of vision, Gus saw what he had been trying to shield her from. Gus forced her face to remain impassive as Flack bent down to kiss a gorgeous redhead in greeting. "Oh" she muttered softly, brushing herself off.

"Are you okay?" Danny asked carefully.

"Just a fall, D, I do it all the time" Gus joked.

"I meant…" he trailed off.

"That? It's my own doing, if you recall. I was the one who ran away, I am just getting what I deserve" Gus chewed on her lip.

"Broussard, come on, don't talk like that" Danny pleaded.

"Don't worry about it. He's moving on, time I did too. Now can we go? The movie is starting soon and I know how whiny you get if you miss the previews." Gus strode off with her head held high.

Danny cast another glance at Flack and his date, and then followed with a shaking head.

Flack caught Danny's glance over the top of Devon's head. Flack tried to focus on what she was saying, figuring it was something seductive by the way she had just licked her lips. He also tried to erase the look he had caught on Gus' face. Anyone that didn't know her would have figured she could care less, from how little her face gave away. However, Flack did know her, perhaps better than anyone else, and he knew that the more she cared, the more she shut down. And she had shut down completely in that look.

"Movie was good wasn't it?" Danny asked as they exited the theater.

"Except for having to temporarily suspend belief approximately four thousand times, it was quite enjoyable" Hawkes replied.

"Stop that, what about you, Gus, what did you think?"

"It was a regular cinematic masterpiece, D" Gus said halfheartedly. Danny and Hawkes shared a look behind Gus' back. "Stop looking at each other like that, I'm fine. How about we grab a slice?" Gus replied with a roll of her eyes, knowing neither of them would argue.

On the way to their favorite pizza parlor, Gus caught the wistful expression on Danny's face. "Why don't we call the rest of the gang and see if they are off yet?" she suggested, knowing full well Danny only cared about the scheduling of one of them. She noticed they had been keeping pretty separate at work lately, and she was still unsure if it was the pair's own doing, or a little intervention from Mac.

Seated in a round corner booth between Adam and surprisingly, Sid, a while later, Gus bit into her pizza scorching the roof of her mouth like always. Gus struggled to reach the pile of napkins and felt a wave of loneliness wash over her despite being in the crowd.

A feeling exacerbated by Sid innocently asking, "Where is young Detective Flack?"

Gus heard Adam make a choking noise beside her and mutter under his breath, "You really need to leave the morgue more, Sid."

Gus smirked slightly, taking in Adam's look of concern. Squeezing his arm, Gus turned to Sid with a false smile, "I think he had a date this evening."

Gus watched as Sid's expression turned to confusion, then flicked through whatever his peculiar cranium held, and register embarrassment, "I see" was all he said.

Gus caught Lindsay's gaze from across the booth, where she had been discretely nestled against Danny, and waved her off, mouthing "I'm fine."

"Does Mac or Stella ever come out with the rest of the team?" Kendall asked from beside Adam.

"Stella more than Mac, yous never really know what is going on with him" Danny replied.

"Unless it is a Cozy's night" Lindsay added. Kendall's forehead creased.

"Jazz club, Uncle Mac plays with the house band there most Wednesdays and the occasional Saturday" Gus supplied, noticing Kendall's forehead did not increase.

"Gus does too sometimes, though we haven't heard you in quite sometime" Hawkes supplemented.

"Yeah, what's up with that Broussard?" Danny asked.

"My muse got run over by a National Guard Humvee" Gus dripped.

Lindsay picked up on the new lab tech's continued confusion, "Don't worry, Kendall, no one knew that Gus' was Mac's niece when she first came here either."

"Mac's wife was my aunt" Gus explained, "Mac dragged my ass up here after Katrina."

"Right, New Orleans, you were there this summer, weren't you? Some kind of exchange program?" Kendall started putting the pieces together from what she had learned from Stella about the team or had heard around the lab. Adam hadn't told her much about Gus.

"Yeah, something like that" Gus and Danny dripped at the same time. Gus broke into laughter, "Thanks a lot, Messer."

Leaning over Adam, Gus filled in, "I tried to quit after a big bust at the beginning of the summer, but they wouldn't let me. I also wanted to see how my hometown was doing two years later. Short answer, great place to visit, avoid living there."

Kendall nodded, trying to take it all in, and also wanted to ask about Detective Flack, as she had heard something about the pair having been partners at one point, but she also got the impression that that was not a topic for open discussion currently.

"Whoa, look at the time" Danny exclaimed suddenly, with a large, and fake yawn.

"Bye you two, but don't forget to leave cash for your share" Gus teased.

"Funny, Broussard, real flippin' funny" Danny drolled, but smiled and rolled some bills out on the table.

"I should head home as well, my wife is probably thinking I have chosen d.b.'s over her again" Sid exclaimed, nudging Hawkes out of the booth.

"Curfew time again?" Gus joked, pecking Sid on the cheek. A minute later Gus said, "I guess I am going to head home too. Got a long day of pawning off cold cases tomorrow" Gus said as she slid out of the booth.

Hawkes laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Can you make it home, alright?"

"Sheldon, I am fine. But thanks" Gus patted him on the cheek.

Kendall gave Adam another look, noticing he was also looking at Gus with concern. The two men followed Gus with their eyes, both looking relieved when she caught up with Sid, who handed over his cab, despite her protestations. Hawkes followed out next, catching Sid still on the sidewalk.

"That girl is carrying the world on her shoulders' isn't she?" he remarked as his former protégé stood beside him.

"And try to convince her that she shouldn't" Hawkes replied with a shake of his head.

"What is her deal?" Kendall asked Adam, trying to remain unconcerned about Gus, though she couldn't deny the pangs of jealousy that she had felt the first time she laid eyes on the woman in the canteen with Adam.

Adam shrugged, "She's had a rough time of it."

"Yeah, but everyone is acting like she is about to break, and she looks pretty tough to me" Kendall replied.

"Gus is one of the toughest people I know" Adam agreed, "and that might be her downfall."

"Anything ever happen between the two of you?" Kendall asked, her eyes grave.

Adam made a face, "Gus? No, no way, she's like a sister. She is a good friend, and she got a lot of what I was going through after the warehouse" Adam shuddered, and then covering it up with a smile, "Besides, Flack would have kicked my ass."

"Flack, the guy out on the date?" Kendall responded, "why is that?"

"Oh my dear Kendall, you have so much to learn" Adam smiled, leading her out of the restaurant by her waist, "Luckily I will happily be your tour guide."

* * *

**Chapter 23: Bad**

Gus forced the cab to stop as soon as she was out of sight. Sure it was getting late, but she was a cop after all and she would rather be anywhere rather than home right now. Gus found herself wandering around Lower Manhattan surprising herself when she ended up at Ground Zero.

It wasn't a place she went to very often, she didn't need the visual reminder of the day another part of her heart was taken from her. Gus leaned against the chain link fence, looking into the void below. Despite the years slipping by faster and faster, and workers down in the pit even at this late hour, Gus felt a sense of abeyance.

Grief washed over her as she felt a hollowness in her heart, thinking all of this would be easier to handle if Claire was still here. Claire, more a big sister than an aunt. Claire who not only understood her mother's mood swings, but also was her constant protector, no matter how many miles separated them. Claire, her ultimate confidant and friend and cheerleader. "Why did you leave me?" Gus said, tears pricking her eyes and sliding silently down her cheeks.

Gus did not even hear the man approach until he was at her elbow, surprising since you could smell the alcohol and street reek on him from a block away. "We all lost something that day" he said, his voice gruff and slurred.

"Some more than others" Gus retorted, waiting for him to beg for change.

"They haven't really left us though. You just gotta know where to look for them" the man said.

Gus stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets and chewed on her lip, not wanting to encourage the man, not wanting to be mean either. "I don't have any change" she said, turning to face him.

"Maybe you need some" he joked back, his mouth breaking into a toothless grin.

"Tried that, it didn't work out too well" Gus joked back, though her tone was somber.

"Just gotta know where to look" the man said, and stabbed a dirty finger into her chest before turning and walking away.

"Wait!" Gus called following after him, thinking maybe she could buy the man some food or direct him to some social services or something.

Gus hurried across Fulton Street, happy there was no traffic, catching sight of the man entering the yard of St. Paul's Chapel. Gus walked among the gravestones, many of them dating back over 200 years, searching for the man; Gus briefly wondered if he had passed out among them and hoped he had not hit his head. "Um, sir?" she asked into the night, not sure what to call him, but figured 'sir' was far better than 'homeless dude'. Gus noticed the gates of the chapel were open, perhaps he had gone inside. Gus entered the chapel, squeezing in through the small space in the heavy wooden doors.

She hadn't been in here before, she would have been, if Mac would have let her join the relief workers that set up camp here. Instead had sent her packing back down to New Orleans, which she supposed was better than him locking her up in the mental ward. Gus had certainly seen enough pictures of the place, though they didn't do the building any justice. While there were certainly more ornate places in the world to worship, the whole building seemed to ebb and flow with spirits. The lights were dimmed, Gus presumed so people could quietly pray or meditate, and the place empty.

Giving up on finding the homeless man, Gus slid into one of the pews, taking in the deep marks left from the rescue workers boots. She had read they were planning on removing the pews to create a more open and inviting worship space, and that many who had sought refuge here after 9/11 were against it. Gus was struck with a quote from a hymn growing up, 'New occasions make new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth', perhaps it was something she should consider a little more fully. Gus bowed her head in prayer and contemplation, a movie of Claire, her parents, and everyone she had ever lost playing though her mind. She was brought back into the present by the wind whistling through the church in an eerie symphony, catching the heavy door and slamming it shut.

Gus' head snapped up and she spun around in the pew, her eyes landing on one of the banners hanging from the upper balcony. Her eyes trained on one of the quotes left by some well wisher... "Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die" Gus read aloud to the empty church. The wind picked up again, a chill in the air, proving that fall was indeed on its way. Gus shivered slightly, jumping again as the heavy door squeaky slowly open. "Don't have to go home, but you can't stay here" Gus joked to herself, feeling goose bumps rise on her skin.

Walking out of the chapel and back towards the street, a streak of inky blackness caused Gus to yelp and stumble. The yowl of a wounded cat filled the night air as Gus pitched forward after stepping on the offending feline. Knocking against a headstone, Gus immediately tasted blood and shook off seeing stars. Pulling herself up off the ground and brushing off the dirt, Gus too a quick inventory: skinned knees and palms, bit interior cheek, slight welt over her eye. "Fabulous, thanks a lot scardey cat" she grumbled at the cat, now curled on a grave marker and licking itself.

Spying an open but divey bar on the other side of the street, Gus made her way carefully out of the church yard, trying to ignore her aches and pains. Open with a passable clean bathroom and a neon sign proclaiming cheap PBRs called Gus like a siren song. After cleaning herself up the best should could, Gus sat at the bar nursing a can of beer and occasionally placing it on the welt above her eye.

"I get you ice" the barmaid informed her in a heavily accented voice. Gus guessed former Russian bloc country and wondered if the woman was even old enough to be serving liquor, it also made the name of the place, _The National_ pretty damn ironic. Judging by the servers, clientèle and decor, the place should be called Pravda or something.

"Ah, it seems Halloween has come early, for this is quite a treat I see sitting at my bar" a man around Gus' age said, sliding onto the stool next to her. Gus rolled her eyes and did not respond. "Certainly a woman such as yourself does not normally drink something such as that" he pressed on, pointing at her can of cheap beer.

"It's good for this" Gus said, moving the can aside, revealing the gash on her forehead and hoping it would gross the guy out enough that he would move on. Surely he had his pick of underage foreign girls in this place?

"That is quite a nasty scrape you have there, let Ilya take a look at it, he used to be a doctor back in his country" the guy waved who Gus thought was a bouncer over.

"Oh god" Gus moaned to herself, hopefully she wouldn't end up in the Russian mob by the end of the night. "It's nothing" she protested as Ilya prodded at her cut.

"It is nasty scrape, no stitches though. But need better cleaning. I be back" Ilya said, disappearing up a staircase.

"I am Dimitri and you?" the younger guy said, extending his hand.

"Gus" Gus replied, shaking his hand.

"Firm grip for such a pretty woman" Dimitri flirted bringing her hand to his lips.

"Perfectly acceptable grip for a cop" Gus said, pushing aside her suit jacket to show her badge.

Dimitri stiffened slightly, "A police woman, ha, well, I can assure you we are all, how do you Americans say it, above the plank here."

Gus couldn't help but laugh at his slip in the idiom, "I think you mean board, and I am homicide not vice or major case. Just came in for a drink and to clean up."

"In that case, let me get you a real drink. What do you like?"

"For sipping or shooting?" Gus grinned.

"For sipping and enjoying" Dimitri replied, a devilish glint in his eye.

"Vodka then" Gus answered.

Dimitri gripped at his chest, "You are trying to take my heart" he flirted shamelessly.

Gus took in his charming foreign looks, chocolate brown eyes, and sun streak dark hair, knowing better, but haunted by the ghost of Flack's 'girlfriend', Gus found herself being drawn in. "What would you recommend?"

"Here's what I do, I give you three to try from my favorites and you pick your own" Dimitri said, waving one of the barmaids over. He spouted off to her in a language Gus had no hope of understanding and sat back studying her until Ilya came back with a first aid kit. "I fix" he said, opening the kit up on the bar and picking out a couple of items.

Gus bite back a scream as the iodine bit into the wound as Ilya wiped at the gash and then applied two butterfly closures, "There, better now" the man said before closing the kit and disappearing back into the shadows.

Gus sampled far more than three vodkas before deciding on her favorite, and found herself being pulled in by Dimitri's easy charms. After a trip to the bathroom, Gus found herself being handed yet another cocktail from Dimitri. Protesting at the incessantly late hour, Gus refused it at first. "Come on, last call, and then you can go home" Dimitri urged her on.

Gus complied, greatly enjoying the last drink, but following it up with some much needed water. Dimitri continued chatting with her, about all sorts of things, including regaling her with humorous stories from the bar and talking about what it had been like in the neighborhood over the past six years. Gus suddenly caught sight of the time, "Crap, I really need to go" she said jumping up off her stool. Thank god she was off the next day, but it was still late.

"I take you" Dimitri said, reaching for his leather blazer.

"Er, no, that's okay, the train station is right there or I can flag a cab" Gus said, her face flushing at the thought of this very hot, very foreign guy wanting to take her home.

Trying to reel in her emotions, which seemed to be running high right now, she melted when he said, "I come with you, make sure you get home safe." Gus found herself nodding in agreement, somehow it seemed like the best idea she had heard in a while.

Seated in the back of the cab, Dimitri sitting far closer than a sober Gus would have been comfortable with, Gus took in the city lights, which appeared brighter and hotter than normal. "Must have been some vodka" she mused to herself as they moved toward her building.

"Gramercy Park, nice address for police woman" Dimitri remarked.

"In another life" Gus giggled.

"Wasn't there one of those spy things over here?" Dimitri asked as they pulled up to her place.

"Yeah, right around the corner" Gus said, getting out her keys, "What a case" she remarked, feeling oddly giddy about it, and forgetting temporarily about Devon and Flack. Well at least as much as she could forget about them. "Would you like to come up for some coffee?" Gus asked, as the cab waited, feeling a sudden connection with Dimitri.

"That would be lovely" he answered with a wide grin as he waved the cab driver off.

"Damn" Gus swore as she had trouble fitting the key in the lock, in fact she was having trouble focusing on the lock. Coffee seemed like a great idea, with a boat load of water, she was so freaking thirsty.

"Let me" Dimitri said, leaning over her, helping her unlock the door. Gus marveled at how soft and cool his skin was, she felt like she was burning up. She let her hand linger on top of his, barely aware of his pushing them through the doorway and her punching the elevator button. "You are very beautiful police woman" Dimitri said, as the elevator doors closed on them.

Gus felt like things were in slow motion as he pushed her hair behind her ear and then pressed his lips against hers. Everything seemed so clear, vivid and alive in that kiss, that Gus suddenly felt herself falling, then realizing it was just the elevator doors opening behind her.

Gus let them in to her apartment, gesturing for Dimitri to settle in on the couch. She hung up her suit jacket and set her gun, keys and badge on the entry table. "I'm going to make that coffee" Gus said, fighting for breath and trying to keep her wits about her.

Gus puttered around in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to finish, laying her hot skin against the cold counter top and trying to figure out what she was doing. She felt lost, confused and most of all muddled. As much as she wished it was Flack here instead of this random guy from a dive bar, she knew he was probably happily making out with Devon, or more in her penthouse apartment. Sighing, Gus prepared a tray of coffee and took it into the living room.

Dimitri seemed to be taking stock of her place. "Very beautiful belongings for a very beautiful-"

"If you call me a police woman again, you can leave" Gus cut him off.

"Lady. I am sorry, where I am from, woman such as yourself would not be allowed on the mean streets, they would be treated like princesses" Dimitri said, settling on to the sofa.

"Gilded cages are still cages" Gus said, taking a long drink off the bottle of water she had brought with her from the kitchen.

"True, true" Dimitri said, fixing himself a cup of coffee.

They sat in silence for a few moment while Gus tried, and failed, to get a grip on her hormones. This guy exuded sexiness in a slightly dangerous way, the bad boy she had fallen for too many times in her youth. She knew she would most likely get burned, but knew on her turf without getting too many emotions involved, a night with this man could be just what she needed to get over Flack. Not to mention he had excellent taste in vodka.

"You look like deep thinker now" Dimitri remarked.

"I do that some times" Gus said, acutely aware of his hand inching up her thigh. What the hell, as long as we're safe, Gus thought, giving in to the waves of passion currently engulfing her.

Leading him to her bedroom, Gus forged ahead before she could chicken out, unbuttoning his shirt in the doorway. He caught her arms, "I can tell, you like to be in charge" he growled.

"Part of being police woman I suppose" Gus teased, latching onto him and confused when he stepped away. Must be some sort of culture thing, Gus mused, thinking about all the compliant mail order brides she had heard about.

"Look, I did good with vodka, right?" Dimitri asked, his eyes heavy with lust. Gus nodded, words escaping her. "Than trust me" he said, lifting her onto the bed and working Gus out of most of her clothing.

"No, what?" Gus lamely protested between heated kisses as he wound a scarf over her eyes.

"Shhhhh, zolotoi, just lie back and enjoy" Dimitri said, his tongue making her incapable of thought or speech as it dipped from her ear to her cleavage to her stomach.

Gus squirmed at the lack of control, but found herself more turned on by it than anything. At least until she felt the cold bite of metal into her wrist and heard the scrape of her cuffs as he wound them through her wrought iron headboard and on to her other wrist. "What? What are you doing?" Gus said, struggling against the metal.

"Hush now lastochka" Dimitri whispered into her ear, nibbling slowly on her lobe. The handcuffs bit into the skin of her wrists, but the pain was just one more sensation washing over her, as Gus writhed on the bed beneath his skilled hands. Gus was suddenly caught with the thought that this feeling of powerlessness, helplessness, utter lack of control was something she had been running from her whole life. But in all actuality it wasn't so bad, because she had survived, no matter what she always did. She was struck with another flash of introspection, that despite the myraid of rolls in the hay with Flack, they had never actually used their cuffs on each other, both being such strong personalities. But maybe it would be nice. Better than nice, in fact, she rather wished it was Flack lapping at her skin right now. How wonderful it would be to give herself over to him completely. In the light of day she'd never admit to that. A groan escaped her lips as Dimitri stopped his lavish ministrations.

"Be still, kisa, I'll be right back" Dimitri said, leading a trail of kissed from her neck to her toes.

* * *

Gus waited, acutely aware of her pounding heart and her scantily clad body cuffed to the bed. And waited, and waited. "Dimitri?" she called out, wondering what the hell he was up to. She felt as though she suddenly had bat like hearing, picking up on every sound in the building and the deafening silence in her apartment. A faint click caused her heart to drop. "Shit" she said a couple of minutes later, now sure it was her door she had heard close. Gus was able to shake the scarf loose, so she was able to see there was certainly no man in her bedroom. Now what the hell was she supposed to do? Gus spied her cell phone in her pile of clothes at the foot of the bed, but they may as well be in Antarctica for all the good it did her, linked to the headboard as she was.

Contorting herself, Gus was finally able to get her phone closer to her head. Now if only she could remember how to use voice activated dialing. And who to call to come rescue her after being handcuffed with her own cuffs to her own bed after brining a guy home from a bar? This was beyond mortifying. Gus yelled at her phone, sighing with relief when it replied, "Dialing Stella." She groaned when her voice mail picked up. There was no way she was about to leave her predicament on a voice mail, where it would be recorded for all to hear through out time. Sighing, not wanting to resort to this, especially considering she was in a state of undress Gus yelped out, "Dial Mac."

Rationalizing that her uncle had seen her in a bathing suit, probably one more revealing than her bra and underwear she felt slightly better until a annoyed voice answered, "Flack and this better be frigging good!"

"Crap!" Gus swore, cursing technology as she felt embarrassed heat flood her body. "I was trying to get Mac" Gus stuttered.

"Well you didn't" Flack said, obviously through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry" Gus moaned.

"It's fine, I'll just let you go so you can call him" Flack said, trying to ignore the pouting act Devon was currently doing.

"No, wait...don't hang up!" Gus begged, with more than a hint of pleading.

"Gus, what's going on?" Flack said, suddenly on full alert.

"I, er, can't really...it's well bad and embarrassing and just bad" Gus said, her neck cricking from the odd position she had angled herself in towards the phone.

"Where are you?" Flack asked, concerned and annoyed at Devon draping all over him like a second skin.

"At home" Gus squeaked.

"Are you hurt?" Flack asked, feeling like he was playing twenty questions, and knowing he wasn't going to like the answers.

"Well sort of, more my ego bruised, I suppose, but the things is, I kind of can't...move" Gus said, not able to fully express what was going on.

"Can't move like paralyzed?" Flack said, throwing Devon off of him and pulling his shirt back on and buckling his belt.

"Can't move like...aw hell, could you possibly come over here? I hate to ask, I tried Stella but she was busy and I don't want to bug Danny and Lindsay and Sheldon wouldn't-"

"Ever think you might be interrupting me, sunshine?" Flack chided.

"I wasn't trying to, I was trying to get Mac, I told you. But the point is, I need someone on the team over here ASAP, and I would prefer it to be someone I trust" Gus pleaded, desperation clear over the line.

As much as Flack was disappointed in his important third date being interrupted yet again, he couldn't say no to Gus, especially since she was obviously in need. "I'll be there in 10 to 15" Flack informed her, despite Devon's look of wrath.

"Thanks" Gus squeaked, "And make sure you bring your cuff keys."

Flack hung up before catching her last words and did a double take as he slid his phone on his belt and slipped on his shoes. As he was exiting Devon's apartment, he knew he was in hot water with the socialite.

"Why do you have to go? I thought you already did that work thing today!" Devon pouted.

"My work thing doesn't keep normal hours, doll, the job never sleeps, like the city" Flack said, moving in to peck her on the cheek.

She turned her head away, in a show of passive aggressiveness. "Maybe you should think about finding a new job" Devon sniffed.

"Maybe you should think about finding yourself a new toy" Flack said as Devon slammed the door behind him.

* * *

**Chapter 24: Joe Strummer**

Flack arrived at Gus' building a short time later, thanks to his lax interpretation of traffic rules. He pushed the button for the super, cursing himself for not making an extra set of keys before he sent his back to Gus.

After getting buzzed in, Flack made his way up to her apartment. He knocked on her apartment door, feeling worried and apprehensive all at the same time. Not hearing a response, his heart catching in his throat, he unholstered his gun and opened the unlocked door, quickly scanning the open room.

He took in the tray with coffees sitting on the table in front of the couch, it looked like she had had company. Bristling slightly at that fact and also at the silence, Flack called out, "Gus?" He cocked his head down the hallway, realizing he heard something that sounded like muffled giggling and then, "In here."

Something was clearly not right here, Gus did not giggle. She laughed, chortled and even guffawed, but no giggling. Her laughter was one of the things that had attracted him to her, full of life and timbre, and the opposite of the bird-like twitters so many women insisted on affecting. "Gus, are you okay?"

"Fine, I'm just a little tied up right now" Gus called from the direction of the bedroom.

Flack was torn between wanting to rush in and wondering what the hell was going on. "This better be good, sunshine, because my third date has now been interrupted twice" Flack said as he approached the bedroom door.

"Wouldn't that make it your fourth date, sugar" Gus drawled with another giggle as Flack swung open the door.

Briefly registering her barely covered form clearly handcuffed to her headboard, Flack retorted playfully, "Watch it, Gus, or I'll leave you linked up."

"Bet you'd like that" she shot back.

Quickly realizing something was desperately amiss, he slid his gun back into its holster and moved to her side. "You gonna tell me what's going on?" he asked, pulling out his cuff key.

"Just a little action from a lovely foreign guy. Though he seemed a lot lovelier before he left me like this" Gus replied.

Flack shook his head, moving in to unlock the handcuffs, trying to ignore his rising libido. He blamed it on being pent up and the history the two of them had, though he had to wonder if this had all been some ploy to get him over here, but that didn't seem like a game Gus would play...he trailed off and then fully took in her appearance, including her scraped knees. "What happened to you?" he asked, gently touching the gash above her eye.

"I fell in the yard of the chapel by ground zero. I will delight you with the whole tale as soon as you undo these" Gus said, pulling at the cuffs.

"Right, sorry" Flack said, leaning over her to unlock the cuffs, he heard a slight whimper escape Gus' lips and noticed she was biting her lip. Flack fought hard to ignore it, unlatching the cuffs and watching as Gus rubbed at the welts that were clearly visible on her flesh.

Gus went to stand, wavered and slumped back to the bed, "Sorry, just a bit dizzy. And thirsty."

"Wait here, I'll get you water" Flack walked to the kitchen, baffled, but not wanting to push. "Here" he said, handing her the glass and studying her carefully as she drained it in one gulp.

"Can I get you some clothes?" he asked, trying to avert his eyes from her body.

"Fine, but can you make it not five million degrees in here?" Gus said, fanning herself.

Flack moved to pull out sweats without a second thought, other than the new furniture, everything else in her place was the same as the day he left it. "Sunshine, it ain't hot in here, in fact it is kind of cool" he said, handing her the pile of clothes.

"Oh" she said taking it.

Flack looked at her for a long beat and then tipped her head back, taking in her dilated pupils. "Gus, I am only going to ask this once, and I want you to be honest no matter what. Are you on something?"

"I had a few drinks, but that's all" Gus said, realizing that this whole exchange had been punctuated by her giggles. And she didn't giggle. "Uh-oh" she exclaimed, before pulling on the sweats.

"What?!" Flack said a little more demanding this time.

"Funny story there, blue eyes" Gus flopped back down on the bed and relayed the story of going out with the gang and her trip to ground zero and her fall in the graveyard and her jaunt to the bar ending with Dimitri and his disappearing act. She felt eerily serene why explaining all this to Flack and also felt the overwhelming urge to lick him from head to toe, something that totally did not fit in with the circumstance and caused her brain to zero in on something earlier in the night. "The last drink!" she exclaimed, propping herself up.

"What last drink?" Flack said, still feeling a little lost, but happy Gus was now hidden in over sized sweats.

"At the bar. He insisted I have one more drink and then kept me around for a while and I bet you anything it was spiked, which explains everything, including why my jaw hurts" she said working it.

"Explains everything?"

"MDMA" she murmured, then realizing she had been about to reach out and start stroking Flack's arm. She recoiled in partial horror.

"Ecstasy? He spiked your drink with X?" Flack jumped to his feet, "Who is this guy and how do I find him?"

"Flack, calm down, he owns a bar, I think, he will be easy enough to track down, but he didn't do anything anyway" Gus patted the bed next to her.

"Calm down? He slipped drugs into your drink and left you handcuffed to your bed and he knew you were a cop!" Flack protested, still standing.

"Which is probably why he did it" Gus mused, "Do you know who is on tonight at the ME's office?"

"Some new guy, why?"

"Because I want someone to run a tox screen, but I don't want it to be all over the lab" Gus asked, realizing she had practically cooed it, but powerless to stop.

Flack did a double take but nodded, "Hold on, I'll call Sid." Flack wandered out to the living room to make the call, thinking this night was certainly turning out far different than he expected.

"Sid's coming in. You might owe him your first born though, he said his wife was being exceptionally...amorous this evening" Flack came back in, grimacing as he spoke the words.

"Must be going around" Gus quipped. Flack held out a hand and lifted Gus to her feet, making sure she wasn't going to fall back down again.

As they were headed to the door, Gus stopped and asked, "How did you get in?"

"Got buzzed in the super and your door was unlocked" Flack shrugged. Gus nodded and then reaching for her keys, she recoiled as if a snake was on the table. "What now, please tell me you aren't hallucinating!" Flack exclaimed.

Gus shook her head violently, "No, no, my gun, it was right there!" Gus said pointing at the table which held her badge and keys, but clearly no gun.

"Let me get this straight, you bring home a guy from a bar that has Vice and Major Case watching it all the time for prostitution, drugs and arms dealing; manage to get left handcuffed to your bed and he took your gun?" Flack looked beyond incredulous.

Gus bristled slightly, "Yeah, so?"

Flack snorted with his held back laughter, "Nothing, just could only happen to you, sunshine."

In the car on the way to the morgue, Gus leaned against the glass with her eyes closed. The window was cool, and she felt like she was burning up. Flack had thoughtfully grabbed her another bottle of water, but she had already drained it. "I'm sorry I ruined your date, blue eyes" she murmured, not opening her eyes.

Flack looked at her carefully, unsure of how to answer. He decided to go with honesty. "It's okay, it wasn't going that great anyway. She insulted pretty much everywhere I wanted to go after insisting that I plan it so she could see how real cops and I quote 'lived and loved'."

"Too bad, you two would have made beautiful babies, even if she is a stuck up snob" Gus mumbled and then her eyes flew open in shock, "I didn't mean that. Well, I don't think I did" she back peddled, her brow furrowing.

Flack smirked slightly, "I'll let it go, on account of you being a little raver tonight."

Gus scrunched up her face, "Thanks, I think."

"No problem, and yeah she is kinda stuck up. I think Stella wants to read me the riot act, but she seems distracted lately" Flack drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, "We are here by the way."

"Oh. Good" Gus said, fumbling for the door. "

Let me" Flack said with a half laugh, half exasperated growl.

"Augusta, my dear, I put you in a cab myself" Sid exclaimed by way of greeting, shooting Flack a look.

"Don't look at me, I had nothin' to do with it. She decided on a nightcap at The National" Flack said, holding his palms up.

Sid had Gus slide up on one of the autopsy tables, the metal feeling heavenly against her skin. "Think someone slipped you a mickey, huh?" Sud said, taking her temperature, "Not the way I normally do this" he quipped with an evil grin. Gus shuddered. "Your core temperature is pretty high, but nothing to worry about." He held her wrist, "heart rate increased." Looked into her eyes, "Pupils fixed and dilated. Let's see what we are working with here", Sid pushed up her sleeve, snapped the tourniquet against her skin, expertly finding the vein to draw blood.

"Should I be worried about why you are so good at that on live people?" Gus joked.

Sid just smiled mischievously and said, "Sit tight, I'll go run this upstairs myself, and be back as soon as the results are in" he mocked tipped his hat and disappeared.

Flack noticed Gus was shaking slightly, and working her jaw. "You want more water?" he asked, moving in beside her. She nodded, fighting off the tremor.

He came back after a long pause with another bottle of water and also presented her with a lollipop. "Stole this from Montgomery" he said, handing it to her with a grin.

"Thanks" she said taking it and unwrapping it with a look.

"I busted up more than a few tweaker kids back in my patrol days" he replied.

"I am not tweaking" Gus protested, though it was slightly garbled.

"Sure you aren't" Flack teased. Gus laid a playful punch into his arm. "Hey, I thought X was supposed to make you all calm and affectionate."

"Just imagine how much that would hurt on a normal basis then" Gus shot back.

They remained silent for a few moments, until Flack slid onto the autopsy table beside Gus. "Gus, what were you thinking?" he asked, turning toward her.

"I wasn't" she replied with a shrug. Flack didn't say anything, not believing her statement. "I was lonely" Gus said a couple of minutes later, not able to look up from her lap, "I feel like everyone has moved on without me."

"Nobody's done anything of the sort, sunshine" Flack said, wrapping his arm around her, feeling like he should comfort her.

They stayed that way until Sid appeared back down from the lab, studying the rest results in his hand. Flack quickly slid from the table and moved a couple of feet away. Gus tried to not feel the sting of his actions and instead beamed at Sid, "So what's the news, am I gonna pull through, Doc?"

Sid didn't answer directly, instead launching into his own story. "You know this reminds me of one wild night back in the heyday of Studio 54. I doubt they would have even let a curmudgeon like me in, but luckily I was with this gorgeous, leggy Puerto Rican girl. Was she ever a looker..." Sid trailed off, lost in his own thoughts.

"Hey Hammerback, you done with your trip down memory lane?" Flack asked, brining the ME back to the present.

"What? Oh yes. Your tox screen did come back with methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine, more commonly known as MDMA. As you probably know, it is is a semisynthetic psychedelic empathogen-entactogen of the phenethylamine family. It has greater stimulant effects and fewer visual effects than other common "trip" producing psychedelics."

"Of course" Flack snarked, "what's it mean for little Miss Sunshine, over there though?"

"Well The short-term health risks of taking MDMA include hypertension, dehydration and hyperthermia. MDMA is considered neurotoxic, but the administration of an SSRI in rats prior to the administration of MDMA has been shown to completely block neurotoxicity. This is likely due to the binding of such medications with SERT. However, administering an SSRI prior to administration of MDMA also completely or partially blocks the desired effects of the latter. As a compromise it has been shown that administration of an SSRI 3-4 hours after MDMA, at which time the primary effects will have tapered off significantly, markedly limits neurotoxicity overall despite some axonal damage having already occurred."

"You catching this?" Flack asked Gus.

"Not really" Gus replied, feeling confused and foggy.

"It means, I think you'll be fine, but I am going to give you fluvoxamine maleate, to try to offset the drug and it will also help you with the rebound period. You still might feel depressed or anxious though."

"What else is new? Wait, you are giving me Prozac?" Gus yelped.

"Close to it. Why are you already taking an anti-depressant?" Sid looked at her quizzically.

"No, I am not" Gus replied, indignant.

"Well, you should be right as rain in about 24 hours. I would take tomorrow off though, just to be on the safe side."

"I already am" Gus replied.

"Well, good then. Try to do happy things, it will help" Sid smiled and patted her leg.

"Happy things?" Gus grumbled.

"I am sure you and Detective Flack can figure something out" Sid said, before recalling the conversation earlier that evening when it was revealed they were no longer a couple, "Or something. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get back home" Sid said, hastily grabbing his jacket and hat.

"Come on, Gus, I'll take you to the all night pharmacy and then home, don't want you picking up any more unsavory characters" Flack said, righting her as she slid off the table.

Gus rolled her eyes, "How long you gonna keep up the jokes?"

"Haven't decided yet."

"Great. Shit, what about my gun?"

"Already did the report, 'S why it took me so long to get the water. Loo will see it first thing, and it has already been flagged in the system. He might want a little more detail though" Flack led her back out to the car.

"Thanks" she said, sheepishly, half falling into the seat.

"Hey, we're still partners" Flack said, trying to sound unaffected, and also trying to keep the flush from creeping into his face. "Guess so" Gus replied, leaning back and closing her eyes again, while praying she didn't do anything stupid.

* * *

**Chapter 25: Slow Down**

Gus stood underneath the harsh florescent light, waiting for the pharmacist to count out the little happy pills Sid seemed to think would fix everything. "Better be some damn magical pills" she said to herself.

"Here" Flack said, sliding up beside her and shoving a package into her hands, "figured they might help."

"Thanks" Gus said with a wry grin as she took in the blow pops.

"Ya know-" Flack started, only to be cut off by the weary old pharmacist waving Gus over.

"Ya want me to come up?" Flack asked as he pulled in front of Gus' building.

Gus gave a small shrug, even though she desperately did not want to be left alone.

"If you wanna" she mumbled. "I'd feel better" Flack replied, turning off the ignition.

They rode silently up on the elevator, on opposite sides, the air heavy with unspoken ministrations between them. Gus let them in, waving Flack towards the couch, "Make yourself comfortable, I haven't moved anything since-" she broke off and rushed into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Flack stood dumbfounded in the middle of the living room, shook his head, and sat down on a couch that looked surprisingly like the one currently gracing the living/bed/dining room of his studio. "Nice couch," Flack joked when Gus came out of the bedroom, clad in pajamas and pulling her hair up.

"Yeah, heard it was comfortable," she said somberly. Going for another bottle of water, she returned, handing one to Flack and looking slightly lost as she sat on the far end of the sofa.

They remained quiet as Flack flipped from infomercial to infomercial and the other dredges of very late night television. As he finally settled on some old black and white movie, he punctured the silence with, "I won't bite."

"I know" Gus sighed, moving slightly closer to him, but still feeling the gulf between them.

"Drug pushing Russian arms dealer, really Gus?" Flack asked a bit later, not able to take the weirdness between them another second.

"Pseudo-anorexic, status craving socialite, Don?" Gus volleyed back without missing a beat.

Flack's face broke into an easy grin, "We're both a mess, huh?"

"Pretty much" Gus agreed soberly, absentmindedly rubbing at the cuff burns on her wrists.

"Lemme see" Flack demanded, yanking on her arm, "those are gonna hurt like hell for a few days" he replied as Gus held out her wrists for him to inspect.

"Yeah, well I think I am going to have a hard time with the next perp I gotta cuff" she sighed.

"I'll make you a deal, you stop brining creepy guys home, and I'll cuff the perps" Flack offered.

"You gonna stop dating vapid airheads then?" Gus bit acidly, and then suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth.

"I take it the drugs are wearing off then?" Flack dripped with a raised eyebrow. Seeing the shock on her face and the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks, Flack broke into a dimpled grin and puller her to him, "Come 'ere" he said. Gus gave in, leaning against him and enjoying the comfort of his familiarity.

Gus fell asleep against Flack. He debated staying that way, but decided it would be better to get her to her bed. "Up you go, sunshine" he said, pulling her to her feet. He half walked, half carried Gus to her bedroom, carefully tucking her in. "There you go, Gus" he said, barely stopping himself from kissing her forehead.

"Thanks" she murmured, before her eyes fluttered open with panic, "Wait, you can't leave" she pleaded. "Stay, please!" she begged.

"Here?" Flack asked, looking around, suddenly unsure of himself and the whole situation, but still filled with concern.

"Please, Don" she half sobbed.

Flack sucked in a breath, reminded of the last time she had begged him to stay after her undercover assignment. "Fine" he said, sticking out his lower lip in concentration, trying to figure out just what was the proper protocol for a situation like this, and then he noticed that Gus had fallen back asleep as soon as she was assured he was staying. Shaking his head, he climbed in beside her.

Flack awoke, unsure of where he was, and then looking down at Gus curled at his side, recalled the bizarre events of the night before. Carefully, he slipped out of her bed and padded into the living room. Groaning as he registered the time, he realized he had only gotten four hours of sleep. But he decided to bite the bullet and call in to his Lieutenant, who had surely seen the incident report on his desk by now. "Hey, Loo, it's Flack."

"Flack, is this your chicken scratch on this great report I just walked into, the one that Sinclair is going to have a fit about?"

"Uh yeah" Flack answered hesitantly.

"You planning on adding information on how Detective Broussard managed to have her weapon lifted?"

"You'll have to ask her about that, sir" Flack added.

"She alright?" the Lieutenant asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"She's been better" Flack answered truthfully.

Silence hung for a moment before Daddino cleared his throat, "Take care of her Flack, and I will see you both in my office first thing tomorrow."

"Will do" Flack replied before hanging up.

Flack sighed as his eye caught the bookcases in the office. Gus hadn't been joking, she hadn't done anything since Flack moved out. The holes were still there from where he had removed his books and other belongings. It seemed that nothing had been touched since she returned, as if time had suspended itself. He shook his head, not knowing what to do, but knowing he should at least catch another couple of hours of sleep.

He peaked into the bedroom, hoping that Gus was still asleep. She must have heard the door creak, because her eye fluttered open and she asked, "What time is it?"

"Early, go back to sleep" Flack said softly.

"M'kay" she sighed, turning back over, "Thanks for staying, Flack" she sighed as she pulled the covers tightly around her.

"Not like I had anything better to do" Flack mumbled as he shut the door and headed out to the couch.


	7. Why Ya Wanna

**Chapter 26: Why Ya Wanna Do Me**

Flack nudged Gus on the shoulder, trying to not slosh coffee out of its container, "Psst, sunshine, come on, wake up" he muttered through the bakery bag clenched between his teeth. Giving up, he set the coffees and bag down on the bedside table and sat down beside her, "Hey, Gus, you still alive?" he asked, shaking her a little harder.

"Gungher" Gus groaned, slowly coming to and feeling more than a little disoriented. "Huh, what? Why are you here?" she asked, rubbing at her eyes. Slowly, realization crept into her brain, the night before, seeing Flack with that other girl, the bar and the Russian, her apartment and her gun, calling Flack by mistake, the visit with Sid. Flack watched as her eyes filled with horror and comprehension. "Crap, it wasn't a nightmare" Gus groaned, embarrassment flushing her cheeks.

"Not a sleeping one at least" Flack mused, handing her the cup and shaking the bag, "Figured if any morning called for donuts, this one did, though it technically isn't morning any more."

Gus took a long gulp of the coffee, not sure what to say to the man currently sitting bemusedly on her bed. "Thanks again, Don" she said, finally, more to her coffee than to him.

Shrugging, Flack replied, "No problem, sunshine, as I said, I didn't have anything better to do. Besides I figure you are gonna owe me after this one."

"No kidding" Gus sighed, reaching for a chocolate dipped, but pausing as it was halfway to her mouth, "but you did, I'm sorry I ruined your big date." Gus wrinkled her face, dropping the donut back into the bag, unable to eat while visions of the petite socialite filled her head.

"Hey, now, what's this, I've never seen you reject a donut" Flack asked, concern filling his eyes.

"I'm such a screw up", Gus said, feeling the blood drain from her face.

"Nobody died, sunshine", Flack pointed out, tucking her hair behind her ear in a gesture so familiar that

Gus felt tears well up in her eyes. "What are you doing here, Don?" she asked, not sure she wanted him to answer.

Flack looked back at her, his throat tightening with emotion, he wasn't really sure what he was doing there, other than Gus called and she needed him, so he came, simple as that. "Because you needed me", he answered finally, taking notice of the heat rising within him.

Gus quickly moved from the bed, heading toward the door, "You should go, Flack."

"Go?" Flack looked at her incredulous.

Gus nodded, afraid of speaking or moving or doing something stupid, "Yeah, I'm good, thanks for everything."

"Like I said", Flack said moving towards her, "but I'm not so sure you are good."

"Neither am I", Gus mumbled.

"Then why am I leaving?"

"Because I am sure to do something stupid any second now and mess up what we got going here, whatever this may be", Gus admitted, heading towards the front door.

Flack's head was spinning as he tried to keep up with her riddles, "What are you talking about, Gus?"

Gus swallowed hard, digging her nails into her palms, "I'll see you tomorrow, Flack", she leaned in for a quick kiss on his cheek, wanting desperately to pull him into a long embrace.

"I don't think I should leave, sunshine", Flack said as Gus half pushed him into the hallway.

"I shouldn't have either", she replied as she shut the door on him. Flack shook his head as he walked away, trying to digest her words.

* * *

Gus spent the rest of the day moping, trying to get in touch with Dr. Lyons to no avail, and generally wallowing in depression and sadness. "Made my bed, gotta lie in it, right?" she said to the empty apartment.

The next morning, Gus entered the pit feeling marginally better, after coming to the realization that she had been through much worse in her life and even though she felt like an idiot, no one had been seriously harmed in her little Russian adventure two nights before. Flack tried to start a conversation with her as soon as she got to her desk, but luckily was called away to deal on one of his open cases.

Gus was not spared a visit from Mac, who appeared just as she was gulping down her coffee. He stood before her desk giving her a stern look but remaining silent. She was thankful that Flack was across the room so he couldn't add to the glaring. "I take it Daddino called you?" Gus ventured finally, just as Mac's eyebrow was starting to twitch.

Mac nodded and added "and Sid came to see me yesterday as well."

"Good to know there is such a thing as patient confidentiality around here", Gus grumbled.

"Sid is a ME, his patients are dead, you-" Mac started.

Gus held up a hand, "I know, I know, but it wasn't, look it was a bad situation that got out of control really quick, but everything is fine. Or is going to be fine, alright?"

Mac looked more than a little skeptical, but was interrupted by a bloody, naked man pushing through the doors into the pit, screaming, "I killed him." Mac and the uniform to the other side of Gus immediately drew their weapons, Gus went to respond in kind before realizing her holster was conspicuously empty.

"Crap", she yelled as Mac pushed her behind him and went toward the body as Flack drew around the other side of the man, who had now collapsed on the floor.

"Chelsea University dorms", the man sputtered, blood gushing out of his mouth.

Gus watched in horror as the man lay bloody and seizing on the floor, but could hear nothing other than Flack saying, "It's 10:15" and could do nothing without a weapon. She moved behind a support beam, watching as the man gripped Mac's jacket and whispered into his ear before collapsing on the floor.

Mac felt for his pulse and looked up, shaking his head. "What the hell?" Daddino boomed from his doorway. "Taylor, you get this scene locked down and processed, Flack you take some uniforms and get over to the dorms, Broussard you get your ass in my office now!"

Gus slumped toward her Lieutenant's office, preparing for the ass chewing she knew she deserved, but not looking forward to it. Daddino stormed in behind her after barking a few more commands and slammed the door shut behind him.

He towered over where she was sitting, slamming a file into his left hand. "This is not a good day, Broussard, not a good day at all. In fact it hasn't been that good a week. Thought brass would be happier with catching the uptown robbers, but not the case, too much commotion and bad press for their tastes. In part because of your taxi stealing partner. Not to mention my mother-in-law is in town and she is a bitch on wheels during the best of times, but she is an extra special brand of bitch since her surprise visit came right when we was tearing apart the guest bedroom and bathroom and our accommodations don't meet her exacting standards. Then I come to find out that a detective of mine who hasn't even had the ink dry on her field clearance papers yet gets slipped a mickey in her drink and looses her weapon to a Russian national with mob ties? And now my pit has been turned into a crime scene thanks to some naked nut job killer? I swear to god, yous are trying to push me into an early grave", Daddino roared while rustling through his desk for a bottle of Pepto, taking a long drink.

Gus sat in her chair, trying to not look petulant and feeling more than a little ashamed of herself.

Daddino finally dropped his formidable frame into his desk chair and laid the folder down. "I swear to God, if you didn't have such a good clearance rate, I would turf you back to staff psych faster than you can say Freud."

"Actually, Freud was a psychoanalyst, sir-" Gus started and then stopped as Daddino gave her an evil glare.

"What were you thinking, Broussard?" Gus sat formulating what to say until Daddino leaned forward, "Just spit it out, Broussard and stop trying to figure out how to make this mess sound not so damn bad."

"I was just going to clean up after I took a concrete dive and then..." Gus took a deep breath, "I just wanted to get laid" she admitted finally.

Daddino paused for a moment before breaking into a roar of laughter, "Didn't think that would be a problem with you, Broussard. Ya know I got this nephew...nah, never mind you would scare the hell out of him." Daddino looked puzzled for a moment, "How did Flack end up at your apartment and how did you end up loosing you weapon?"

"I sort of ended up cuffed to my bed and accidentally called Flack when trying to voice dial Mac."

This caused Daddino to break back into laughter, "Only you! Though I have to say it was probably better for you to get Flack, I am not so sure how Taylor would have handled the situation...I am not sure how Sinclair is going to want to handle this, but for now I think you should just lie low for a couple of days and see if your weapon turns up." Daddino then waved Gus out of his office and just as her hand met the door handle he added, "And, Broussard?"

"Yes?"

"Next time you want to get laid, head to the nearest ladder company and don't drink anything", Daddino said with a shake of his head.

* * *

Gus walked back to the pit to find Mac and Sheldon processing the scene and was thankful her desk was outside the tape so she could hide at it. Just then Flack entered with a young man who appeared to be still damp from the shower to id the victim.

Gus tried to not eavesdrop but couldn't help but gape when Mac said, "He said he came from the future and doesn't kill you until tomorrow." The young man stared dumbfounded through his glasses as Mac and Sheldon left to follow the evidence out of the precinct.

Flack dragged the young man past her desk, droplets of water flying everywhere. "Whadya do, pull his straight outta shower?" Parker asked.

Flack grimaced, "Actually, yes." This caused the pit to break into snorts and stifled laughter. Flack shoved the man toward a uniform and turned to Gus, "You want to observe and see if Kevin here was also a passenger on the S.S. Fruitcake?"

"I'm supposed to be lying low."

"Hiding out in the observation room is lying pretty low in my book", Flack replied. Gus nodded, and silently followed him, still feeling confused and embarrassed over her recent adventure.

They had to wait for a room to open up, Kevin getting more antsy as time passed. Gus went to get them all drinks and came back to find Mac had joined Flack in the room with Kevin. "Drinking problem?" one the uniforms asked seeing the three cups in Gus' hand. Gus growled slightly, causing the uniform to wince before ducking into the observation room.

"Well he's not crazy", Flack observed after Mac had escorted Kevin out of the room.

"Nope just a physics nerd, a cute nerd..." Gus started and then cut off as Flack shot her a look.

"Some of that stuff still in your system, sunshine?" he said with a dimpled, "'Cause I am glad I didn't bring you along to yank him out ta shower."

Gus yanked on her ponytail, unsure of how to respond, but was rescued by Mac coming back in.

"That kid knows more than he is letting on." Both Flack and Gus nodded in agreement. "But we can't move forward until we have more evidence. Hopefully, Sid will come up with something in autopsy." Mac made to leave, but paused before walking out, "We should talk later, Gus."

"Busted", Flack teased as soon as Mac was out of earshot.

"Shut up, Flack", Gus sighed. Flack looked down at her, feeling a wave of pity and he wasn't sure what else wash over him.

"Look, how about we grab some food after we solve this nut ball case and you have your talk with Mac?"

Gus looked unsure for a moment, but finally nodded, knowing that they were going to have to talk about what happened at some point. "Yeah, thanks, but I don't think I am going to be helping in solving this one, I think I am gonna be riding a desk until Sinclair says otherwise."

"You have fun with that", Flack said, squeezing her on the shoulder before walking out.

"You know I won't", Gus called after him.

"Detective, detective, detective", Sinclair annunciated the word carefully all three times while shaking his head. "Your personnel file is quite the interesting read", he continued, sliding the folder toward Gus.

"I like to keep things interesting?" Gus squeaked.

"Well, I don't, at least not anymore", Sinclair responded, staring her down.

Gus wondered what he was like back in his days as a detective himself, she could only imagine what his personnel file contained based on the rumors she had heard. Gus nervously drummed her fingers on his desk until he laid one heavy hand on top of hers. "Sorry", she yelped.

"Detective Broussard, there comes a time in one's career where you have to take a long hard look at where you have been and where you want to go. It seems in the NYPD there are two types of people: those who want to advance and those that are happy to just stay where they are, to stagnate if you will. I, of course, chose to advance." Gus tried to figure out where he was going with this. "I am not sure what your plans are, but right now you seem to be in a third faction, the rogue faction, and I do not like this faction one bit."

Gus figured she was a hairsbreadth away from being fired and steeled herself to not respond while wondering just who the hell would hire her.

"But I do like talent and promise and you have both", he continued as Gus let out a big breath she didn't know she had been holding. "Here's what I am thinking", Sinclair said, standing and linking his hands behind his back, "I am thinking you need to explore other options within the department until you decide what is the best fit for you and for us."

Gus' forehead knitted together in fear and concentration.

"I think it would be best for the time being that you become the liaison between Homicide and Public Information. I have already discussed it with the Deputy Commissioner, and he thinks it is an excellent idea, considering the press we have been generating lately."

"What will I be doing, exactly?" Gus asked quizzically.

"It means, Broussard, that you will be taking what happens in homicide and using your special psycho-babble speak to pretty it up for our PR people to feed the the newspapers. You also will be held personally responsible for any leaks to the press."

Gus gulped, this looked like a set-up for her to take the fall for the inevitable blabber mouths ins the department.

Sinclair picked up his phone and buzzed his secretary, "Send him in", was all he said.

Gus straighten from her slouching position in her chair as a suited man who appeared slightly older than her and could only be described as devastatingly pretty, entered and smiled charmingly at both of them, shaking Sinclair's hand with a firm grip and greeting, "Chief, good to see you." "Paul Matthews, Office of the Mayor", the blond chiseled-jaw man introduced himself as he shook Gus' hand.

"I recognize you from press conferences", Gus said, trying to not be blinded by the man's unnaturally white teeth, near violet-gray eyes, and well-cut expensive suit.

"Guilty as charged", he said with a laugh. "When I heard I was going to be working with a homicide detective, I expected Sinclair to pair me with some overweight, hairy man that I would have to hide from the cameras. I have to say you are going to make my job much easier", Paul continued.

"Don't count on it", Sinclair said with a menacing laugh, "Now that you two have met, could you go somewhere else, I have a meeting to run." He dismissed them by opening his office door and shooing them out and gesturing the waiting suits in.

"I don't suppose you like coffee?" Paul inquired.

"It isn't so much a like as a necessity", Gus replied. Paul laughed again, and led Gus by placing his hand on the small of her back. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but didn't want to make waves within five minutes of meeting a guy from the mayor's office.

"I know this great cafe down the block that won't care if we take over half the tables", Paul said with a wink.

"Er, great", Gus replied following after him with an odd feeling in her stomach.

* * *

**Chapter 27: Jenny Says**

"Broussard", she answered her phone sticking up her finger for Paul to excuse her for a minute.

"Gus, where have you been all day, you wouldn't believe this case", Sheldon chattered over the line.

"A little issue with brass, but what's up?" Gus replied, her interest piqued.

"The naked guy from this morning is none other than Dr. Browning."

"The math and physics guy who won all those awards?"

"One in the same and Sid found a microchip in his hand and a needle connecting both hemispheres of his brain during the autopsy and that led us to his workshop where we found...are you ready for this?"

Gus waited a beat and then urged him on, "Shel, come on, just tell me!"

"A time machine. Which didn't help your boy Flack being convinced that Dr. Browning needed to be in a straight-jacket, in addition to him wanting to haul Kevin Murray back in."

"My boy? Besides there is a fine line between genius and insanity", Gus replied.

Sheldon laughed, "Which is exactly what Mac said."

"Great", Gus huffed. Paul looked at her curiously. Gas mouthed, "New case." Paul nodded and went back to his notepad.

"We're thinking the needle may have helped his genius out in addition to giving him seizures and hallucinations."

"Explaining the insanity and time travel belief", Gus said, picking up Sheldon's train of thought.

She saw Paul write something on the pad and underline it before holding it up to her, "TIME TRAVEL?" it read. Gus held up her finger again.

Sheldon continued, "I am going to talk to the dean, you want to come with me? I know you know your way around the politics of academia."

"I would love to Sheldon, but I am kind of working with Public Information right now, but I want to hear all about this...and before it gets to the press, okay, Shel?" Gus said, pleading.

"PI, what did you do?"

"Long story I am sure you will hear about soon enough. Or Flack can fill you in."

Sheldon laughed, "Knowing you, this is going to be entertaining. And I don't know if the press will even care about this case if they get wind of the case Stella was telling me about."

Gus stiffened, "What kind of case is Stella working on?"

"I haven't talked with her too much on it, but something about a girl orgasming to death in the middle of Katz's. I think Angell pulled the case."

"You are kidding me", Gus exclaimed, her eyes going wide.

"Can't make any of this stuff up, Gus", Sheldon said before hanging up.

"Time travel?" Paul asked as soon as she hung up the phone.

"Yeah, but that's the back burner story, I guarantee. Seems a girl was found dead in the middle of Katz's Deli and the story is she orgasmed to death, only in New York right?" Gus rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to call the detective of record and get you the scoop to run with."

"Can you get it to me before the evening news does?" Paul asked with wide eyes.

"I'm not a miracle worker, but I will see what I can do", Gus answered.

"I am pretty sure you could work a miracle or two", Paul flirted with her.

Gus paused for a beat, "Maybe, but if you let me get back to the precinct, I can get my ear to the ground better."

"okay, but call me the second you know anything, I want to be first on your speed dial from now on"!

"Joy", Gus muttered as she left the cafe.

"Punted to PI, way to rise to the top, sunshine", Flack said by way of greeting as she stepped back into the pit.

"News travels fast around here."

"Well, ya know, with all this science fiction going on", Flack smiled.

"Yeah, how did that work out for you with all the geek speak?"

Flack rubbed at the back of his neck. "What you mean Hawkes blabbering on and on about wormholes and the speed of light? I mean, I will admit to maybe watching the occasional late night episode of Dr. Who, but I just don't buy into all this time travel stuff. My money is still on Kevin Murray, but I am waiting on the lab."

"I see, well have you seen Angell around anywhere? I heard she caught one hell of a case!" Gus tried to remain nonchalant.

"She's probably in the lab herself. All I know is the boys keep snickering about the apparent show this sorority girl put on in the middle of the deli, something involving a pickle and more than a few of the wits trying to mack on Angell."

Gus suppressed a snicker, "I can only imagine. Hell of a way to go, huh?"

"There are plenty of worse ways", Flack retorted, his eyes flashing a mischievous blue.

"Suppose so", Gus gulped, trying to not flush, "I'm going to see if I can track her down. Paul wants to get out a release before the news gets its teeth into it."

"Paul, huh?" Flack inquired.

"Yeah, the PR guy from the mayor's office, he's been around for press conferences here before", Gus explained.

Flack ran through his mental roster of the pricks from the mayor's office, "Yeah, the pretty boy."

Gus shrugged, "Guess so, catch ya later", she said walking off.

It was very late by the time she tracked down Angell, got the full story on the case involving Robin Graham, the girl from the diner and reconvened with Paul to get a press release out to the media before the late news.

"I don't suppose you want to catch a drink and see how the news spins this release?" Paul ventured as she made ready to leave his office.

Gus hesitated, "Actually, I think I am giving up drinking for a while."

"Dinner?" he countered.

"Grabbed something from a cart earlier", she replied.

Paul shuddered, "You cops will eat anything, I swear."

"Job hazard", Gus shrugged.

"Dessert?" he ventured, running out of options but wanting to get to know the pretty detective on a more personal level if possible.

Gus felt painted in a corner and bristled slightly, "How about a rain check? I'm pretty beat."

Paul smiled, even though less than pleased that his charms weren't working, "okay, but I am holding you to it, Detective Broussard."

"You're here late", Flack remarked as Gus swung by the pit before heading home.

"Could say the same about you."

"Had some paperwork to catch up on", Flack replied.

"Sounds like fun", Gus said, hitching her bag on her shoulder.

"You eat yet?" Flack questioned.

"Gyro, earlier, but did you know our normal guy moved up to the 2-3? Gave his cousin the spot here, not the same", Gus said mournfully.

Flack looked a little crushed, "Aw man. I suppose you are off drinks for a while, huh?"

Gus nodded, "Yep, think Danny's gonna have to be your Sully's buddy again."

"Good luck with that", Flack said bemusedly.

"Dessert?"

"What is with it with you boys tonight?"

Flack creased his forehead, "Whaddya mean?"

Gus shook her head with a small laugh, "Nothing, but I'm beat. Maybe tomorrow?"

"Yeah, tomorrow", Flack said, curious as to what she meant but not wanting to push the issue, "Think you can make it home without picking up any unsavory characters?"

Gus raised her eyebrows, "Yes, Flack, I think I can. I don't want to sink any lower than PI. See you tomorrow, and don't stay too late yourself." She waved over her shoulder as she headed into the night to flag a cab.

* * *

**Chapter 28: Get Out of My Way**

Gus spent the next day trailing after her compatriots trying to get them to spill about their cases and explain that she hadn't become part of the rat squad, but instead had forced into working with Public Information since she had been relieved of her weapon.

Either they all knew what happened to her with Dimitri Nasenko or they knew better than to ask, but Gus could tell that her hounding them for details was going to wear thin quickly.

Luckily, Angell was a good enough friend to spill her information readily, including lab results Stella had gotten about the dead girl's inhaler medication being switched out with a drug being tested at the university.

Mac also inadvertently helped her by making lunch plans and then having to break them when he was called out to Dr. Browning's apartment where Kevin Murray was found dead.

"I have never gotten information so freely from you detectives before", Paul remarked as they met up in City Hall, Gus wishing she had worn more comfortable shoes for the hike.

"Don't expect it to last long, I am pretty sure my colleagues are going to tire of me hounding them for info damn quick, they get enough of that from brass", Gus dripped.

"I am betting they find you pleasant enough company", Paul fed back, laying on the charm.

"Yeah, I would like to keep it that way", Gus huffed.

"I am certain you will figure something out. Besides, you seem to have a great relationship with the Crime Lab. Your Uncle heads it, doesn't he?"

Gus felt her jaw clench, "Yes, he does, but I try to not let my personal relationships get in the way of my job."

Paul bestowed a huge pearly smile on her, "Good try, detective, but I've done some checking up on you."

Gus felt her gut constrict, "Great, just great!"

"It is hard to balance work and play working in this field isn't it?" he said, sitting down next to her on the couch in his office.

"This field? In case you hadn't gotten the memo, you are a pretty face for the mayor's office, I haven't seen you out at a crime scene lately!" Gus' voice was acidic.

Paul gave a little pout, "You wound me, I happen to think I serve the public as well, maybe just not in the same way you do."

Gus stiffened, "Is this going to be some 'the public has the right to know' speech? Because the public, my dear PR jockey, can't handle half of what goes on out there!" Gus jumped to her feet.

Paul could see this going downhill quickly, and he didn't want to lose the best scoop he had ever had with the force. He rose slowly, his palms out in surrender, "Sorry, Detective, I did not mean to imply that we are equals, and I agree that the public can't handle what you see everyday, and that is why I think my job is important, whetting their appetites why still allowing the police to do their jobs."

"Yeah, well, for the most part you are this much above the media, and you might happen to know what we think of the media", Gus held her thumb and forefinger the smallest amount apart possible.

"Public Information isn't all bad. Just like not all homicide cops are bumbling, sweaty imbeciles", Paul said, trying to placate the feisty woman.

Gus opened her mouth, but was interrupted by her phone buzzing. "Broussard."

"It's Angell, we just processed someone in the Robin Graham case."

"Good, can you hold on for one sec?" Gus shot Paul a look and then ducked out into the women's room down the hallway, figuring that may be the one place Paul wouldn't follow her for information.

"Okay, Jess, I'm back."

"Gus, where are you, it's all echoing?!"

"I had to duck into the bathroom, Paul Matthews is trying to make me his department spy."

"That stinks, he is kind of cute though, at least on tv."

"Jess, the case!" Gus pleaded.

"Right, so it seems the head of kappa delta killya didn't like the fact that one of the pledges was still a virgin, so she swapped out the girl's inhaler cartridge with this super sexual enhancement drug and then filled the room with flowers that she knew Robin was allergic to. Apparently, she was worried that Robin wouldn't seal the deal so to speak and wanted to get her in the mood with this drug. Girl took a bunch of hits of this super-ecstasy thinking it was her inhaler, didn't get any relief and freaked out. Guy who 'won' the right to deflower her, I kid you not, felt bad, went after her and then took her to the deli. Drugs kick in and you know the rest", Angell reported the facts sounding more than a little horrified by the whole deal.

"That sucks!" Gus replied, not able to come up with any better words to describe the situation.

Angell sighed in agreement, "I know, huh? Anyway, figured that would be a fun one for you to spin for the nightly news. Also, I saw Mac coming out of processing and I think he may have gotten a lead in that time traveling case. Flack left for the night, so I'm guessing it got wrapped up. And he was looking for you."

"This day keeps getting better", Gus grumbled.

"Well at least it is almost over", Angell tried to placate her friend.

Paul was waiting for her when she exited the bathroom. "I was about to send in ESU", Paul joked.

"Charming", Gus replied, deciding to let him squirm for a moment.

"They booked somebody in the Graham case, girl's sorority president."

"What about the time travel case? Media's been calling about that one as well."

"Nothing is ever enough for you, huh, Matthews?" Gus said with raised eyebrows.

"I am just a voice from the department to the people", he replied humbly.

"Did you practice that one in front of the mirror?" Gus joked.

"Maybe a little", Paul said sheepishly.

Gus couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face. "If you give me a minute, I'll see what I can do for you", Gus.

"By all means" Paul said, escorting her back to his office as she dialed Mac.

"Taylor."

"Angell said you were looking for me", Gus said as Mac answered.

"Heard you got turfed to Public Information, I wanted to let you know I had nothing to do with it", Mac said.

Gus laughed, "Believe me, I am aware your powers are not that great. Sinclair was on me about moving to PR and I turned him down, so my latest screw up gave him opportunity to play puppet master", Gus shot Paul a look as she was relaying this information to Mac.

Paul put his pen down and studied her as she turned to talk to her Uncle. He had done some checking on her, but he hadn't gotten much information, cops were notoriously protective and close-knit. He managed to get some information out of Sinclair, surface stuff about her being from New Orleans and having spent the summer working with NOPD, that she had several incidents in her personnel file, but they were mostly related to her being involved in accidents, and some rumors that she had been seeing her partner, but it ended at summer's start. He wasn't sure if it was related to her leaving to work with the NOPD or not or if she was seeing anyone at the moment.

Gus turned back around, caught Paul staring at her and ran her hands over her suit. "I don't have food on me, do I?" she asked.

"No, you're good", Paul smiled at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Gus cocked her head, thinking Angell was right, he was cute and not just on tv.

"Browning case also got wrapped up, full confession from another assistant with a gambling problem who was using Browning's game theory to help him out at the track. Him loosing out meant Browning and Murray lost their lives, but now he is loosing his freedom so..." Gus trailed off, Paul was still looking intently at her. "What?"

"You hate not being out there, don't you?" "In the field?" Gus questioned. Paul nodded. Gus returned the gesture, "Very perceptive, but yeah, I do. I switched from staff psych to detective for a reason, being a cop is in my blood, I suppose, but I have screwed up lately, high risk behaviors if you will, so now here I am." Gus made a shrugging motion with her hands up, "What are you gonna do?"

"Tell Sinclair you aren't going to be his spy and that you belong in the field, not running between 1PP and City Hall like an intern", Paul suggested.

"That sounds lovely, but I don't have that kind of luxury right now", she paused, not sure how much she wanted to reveal to the mouth of city hall.

Gus chewed on her lip before continuing, "You know how I ended up getting yanked from the field?"

Paul sat down, wanting to make her more comfortable, "You're a klutz?"

Gus laughed, the mood lightening, "On top of that. I kind of took off after the lab blew up this summer, ended up putting in an insane amount of hours with the NOPD, saw stuff that would put most cops in Bellevue and eventually figured out if I stayed there, it would kill me."

"So you returned here with your tail between your legs and now are letting them push you around?"

Gus shook her head, "Not entirely, I didn't leave in the most professional way and I had to beg to get my job back and then I was on cold cases and probation and just I was about to get things back on track, I got my gun lifted by a suspected mobster."

Paul looked at her, incredulous, "I would imagine you put up quite the fight."

Gus snorted, "I wish, he smartly drugged me first. And now here I am in purgatory, being reminded that I need to learn to play the game."

Paul smirked slightly, "Something tells me that isn't your strong suit."

"Tip of the iceberg. Now if you will excuse me, I have to meet someone."

"Boyfriend?" Paul fished.

Gus smiled, "Smooth, Matthews. See you tomorrow."

* * *

**Chapter 29: Only One of Us**

Gus headed back over to the crime lab, knocking on Mac's door. He looked up from the piece of paper he was reading with an odd look on his face.

Gus cocked her head to the side, seeing the airmail envelope on his desk, "Uh-oh", she remarked, "Not so happy news from across the pond?"

"Dear John letter, though I suppose in this case it is a Dear Mac." He dropped the letter onto his desk and grabbed his coat, "You ready? I was hoping we could grab a bite and chat about your Russian adventures before the set is supposed to begin."

"Reel me in with a night at Cozy's with a hidden agenda, huh, Mac?"

"You've been hard to pin down lately, Gussie."

"Makes two of us", Gus replied as they headed out to the club.

"It's awfully crowded!" Gus remarked as they ducked in the side door to Cozy's.

"Some hotshot kid is playing later", Mac said, nodding at the security guy standing inside the door.

"Good thing you've got connections then", Gus joked as they made their way to a table in the back room.

Mac raised his eyebrows when Gus ordered a club soda and cranberry, but refrained from remarking until the waitress had come and gone with their drinks. "Off the sauce, huh?"

"Funny", Gus said, playing with her straw.

Mac leaned back in his seat,"You want to tell me about it, or you want me to piece together my own version from the rumors?"

Gus shook out her hair, "How many rumors are there?"

Mac smiled slightly, "Not many, but I am going to get it out of you one way or another."

Gus debated her options, knowing she didn't really have any. She scooted forward in her seat and motioned Mac forward, she wasn't about to announce her idiocy to a club full of people who would have far too much fun teasing her about it later.

She launched into the tale of how she went out with the team and ended up at Ground Zero and her tumble in the graveyard and her journey to _The National_ in hopes of getting cleaned up before heading home.

Mac listened patiently, knowing this was just back story and sounded feasible knowing his niece. "How does this end with you drugged up and handing over your gun?"

Gus sighed, "I'm getting there. This guy started chatting me up and I started drinking, which was fine until he slipped something into my last martini and we ended up back at my place where I ended up handcuffed to my bed and he took off with my gun."

Mac did a double take, "Why didn't you call me?"

"I tried, but my stupid voice thing called Flack instead, interrupting his date, which he was not happy about. But it was horribly embarrassing, so I am glad I didn't get you", Gus admitted.

Mac took in her words and got to the heart of it immediately, "You still have a thing for him, don't you?"

Gus spit out her mouthful of soda and cranberry. Mac patted himself off and waited for her to speak. "Don? No! Its fine, I mean I'm the one that left and so he moved on, normal and natural right? I mean look at you and Peyton, she wanted to stay in England and you belong here, so clearly you can't stay together..." Gus trailed off.

"The difference being you two are in the same city in the here and now", Mac pointed out.

"Weren't you the one that was against me and him as anything more than partners in the first place?" Gus protested.

Mac shook his head slightly, "I will admit that I think it could have repercussions neither of you thought about, but I certainly am not for you self-destructing or punishing yourself for no good reason. Like I was telling Stella earlier, we are the type to look for excuses to not fall for others, and sometimes you just have to take the plunge."

Gus took in his words and then exclaimed, "were telling Stella? What's going on with her, is this that coffee guy?"

Mac looked unsure if he should say anything, "He's been sending her gifts, I told her to go for it."

Gus narrowed her eyes slightly, "You better hope he is a good guy."

"She already ran him through the system. Now back to you", Mac deflected.

"I don't know where I stand with Flack. I can't blame him for being angry with me, I understand why he would never forgive me, frankly I am shocked he is even wanting us to work together", Gus looked perplexed.

Mac waited for their food to be delivered before answering his niece. "Have you considered that maybe Don has already forgiven you and you just need to forgive yourself?"

Gus stabbed at her dish, "You are awfully prosaic for a man who has just been dumped by letter."

"Better than e-mail, I suppose", Mac said with a wry smile, but Gus could tell he was wounded by Peyton's decision.

Gus got up and landed a peck on his cheek and a quick squeeze, much to his chagrin. "I know I may not have been her biggest fan, Uncle Mac, but she's has no clue what's she's letting go", Gus said before digging into her food.

* * *

Later as Gus watched Mac on stage with the rising star musician, she spotted Stella out of the corner of her eye. Stella didn't see her, but caught Mac's eye and gave him a slight wave.

Gus moved beside her friend, causing her to jump slightly. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I didn't know you were coming."

"Neither did I, I just thought Mac might be able to-" Stella cut off, not knowing if anyone else knew about the letter she had found in Mac's office.

"I know about the letter, and yeah, I think he could use a friend more tonight than his moping niece", Gus placated her.

"Heard you got stuck working with PI", Stella said after a few moment of silence.

"Not for long, if I can help it, I lost my gun thanks to bringing my libido home instead of my head", Gus grumbled.

Stella felt bad for Gus and patted her on the shoulder, "We all make mistakes."

"Yeah, I know, just have to forgive myself, Mac already gave me that speech tonight", Gus paused and then switched gears, "Heard you have an admirer."

Stella nodded, "Yeah, but I still don't know what to make of it."

"Well, I think we need a girl's night soon to dish on all of our recent pursuits", Gus prompted.

"I agree", Stella nodded.

"Friday night, my place?" Gus offered.

"Works for me", Stella said as the set ended.

"I think I am going to head home. And Stella, thanks for being a good friend. To Mac and me", Gus said as she made her way out of the crowd.

Gus looked at her caller id as her phone buzzed on her way out home and smiled, "Broussard."

"How about that dessert, sunshine, it is tomorrow, after all", Flack said over the line.

"Only for another ten minutes", Gus shot back.

"Well then you better hurry up, otherwise you've stood me up."

Gus could hear the smile in his voice and felt her stomach do a little flip, "Fine, where are you?"

"Out in front of your place with a pie from City Bakery, and I am pretty sure I am about to get mugged for it."

"I'm right around the corner, stay strong", Gus laughed hanging up.

Flack met her coming out of the 23rd Street station. "How did you know I was coming from the subway?"

"Because your phone kept going to voice mail and I knew you had been with Mac at Cozy's", Flack explained as if it should be obvious.

"If you weren't a detective you would make an excellent stalker, Flack", Gus laughed and then leaned in, "you know I don't have a weapon if someone goes for the pie, right?"

Flack rolled his eyes,"How about you carry the pie and I'll cover you then?"

"How are you enjoying PR work?" Flack asked as they settled in with their pie and glasses of milk at her dining room table.

"About as much as you enjoy runners", Gus retorted savoring the sweet tartness of the apples in the pie.

Flack took in her noises of delight, "Should I leave you and the pie alone?"

Gus wrinkled her nose, "Maybe", she teased.

"Seriously, how long are you stuck in Siberia, because while I love the team, I can only take so much of the geek squad, and this last case was way more up your alley than mine", Flack admitted, scooping more ice cream onto his pie.

"I don't know, it sucks though because Paul thinks I am his department spy and Sinclair thinks I am his puppet."

"He ask you out yet?"

"Despite emails to the contrary, I am pretty sure Sinclair is happily married!" Gus admonished.

"Nice try, Gus", Flack countered.

"Sort of, in a round about way", Gus admitted.

"Better choice than gangsters. Angell said he's hot", Flack tried to sound casual.

"That she did, I will have to introduce the two of them. And I was not seeking out a gangster, I was seeking out someplace to wipe the dirt and blood out of me knees before I got gangrene!" Gus protested.

Flack couldn't resist, "Gee mom, he followed me home, can he handcuff me?"

Gus crossed her hands over her chest, "Yeah, well what's your excuse?"

Flack leaned back in his chair, seemingly unaffected, "Wasn't aware I needed one." His words stung enough to make Gus drop her arms and start playing with her pie. "Look, sunshine, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Flack trailed off.

Gus shook her head, refusing to look up at him and trying to swallow the lump in her throat, "I know you didn't and you don't. I was dumb, I know that. But I am human, I make mistakes like everyone else, I just do them in spectacular fashion."

Flack didn't say anything immediately, studying Gus, willing her to look up from her plate. "Did you just admit you were human?" he joked finally.

Gus peered up through her hair, "Maybe", she replied, shoving some crust through the melted ice cream pooling on her plate.

"You deserve better, sunshine", Flack said, while carrying their plates to the kitchen.

"So I have been told", Gus said under her breath.

"I should probably head home", Flack said, coming back from the kitchen.

Gus nodded, feeling a bit sadder suddenly, but knowing it was late, "Guess so."

She walked Flack to the door, feeling like she should be saying something more to him, not knowing the Flack was feeling much the same way.

"Give Matthews hell over there, would ya?" Flack said, kissing the top of her head.

"On it. Night, Don", she said waving and watching him walk down the hall to the elevator.

She shut the door right as he turned and said, "Sweet dreams, sunshine."

* * *

**Chapter 30: Tell The Girl**

The next night, Gus happily played hostess to Stella and Lindsay. At least until Lindsay kept pestering her about how she felt about the news that Flack had a girlfriend.

"Are you sure you are okay with it?" Lindsay asked for the third time as Gus refilled the salsa bowl.

"I am fine" Gus answered through clenched teeth, taking a long drink of her virgin daiquiri, "and I would be even better if you would quit asking me", Gus took an angry swipe at the cheese dip she had laid out on the coffee table for a girl's night in.

A few minutes of silence later Gus quipped, "And if I wasn't okay, which I am, I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine, new topic" Lindsay replied, "what is going on with you, Stella?"

"Nothing much", Stella answered, refusing to meet Gus' eye.

Gus was willing to bet Lindsay didn't know anything about the gifts Stella had been receiving lately.

"Humph" Lindsay sighed, leaning back on the couch, unsatisfied with the lack of gossip.

"What about you, Mon-taannnaaa" Gus teased, "you gotten the great sit down from Mac yet?"

"Nope, luckily he has been busy with other things and I like to think I have managed a completely professional demeanor at work" Lindsay crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yes, longing looks across lab rooms, breaks my heart" Gus drolled.

Lindsay and Stella exchanged a glance behind Gus.

"I saw that, you two, and I am fine, it's all good" Gus tried to convince her friends and herself.

"When are you going to follow suit?" Stella asked.

"Who says I haven't?" Gus ignored the fact that both women looked like they were trying not to laugh. "As soon as someone worth a shit comes along, how about that?" Gus answered finally, "besides, I am still working through some stuff with Dr. Lyons, voluntarily now, but still."

"Is he single?" Lindsay quipped.

"Inappropriate" Gus snarled.

"Sorry, forget you were Dr. Ethical" Lindsay bit back, slightly wounded.

Stella gave them both a look of disdain, lingering longer on Lindsay. She should know better, Stella thought, it wasn't like Gus was actually fine with Flack moving on, or whatever it was the detective was doing.

On top of the fact that is wasn't as though Gus had a summer vacation while she was away. Stella had gleaned some information from Mac, and it sounded mostly like Gus had run herself into the ground in a pretty inhospitable environment for a summer trying to prove god knows what to god knows who.

"Sorry" Lindsay grumbled.

"Me too" Gus muttered.

Stella sighed, some times it really was like they were children. "Now what about this guy I heard Angell talking about that you are working with from the mayor's office is he 'worth a shit'?"

"If you like pretty boys", Gus grumbled and then launched a pillow at Lindsay when she broke into laughter. "I know what you are thinking, Lindsay Monroe and Flack is not a pretty boy, cops can't be pretty boys."

Lindsay bit her lip, trying to not laugh anymore, taking a swallow of her drink and grimacing at the brain freeze.

"That's what you get!" Gus teased.

They all laughed for a moment until Stella turned serious, "What about Mac?"

"Ew, Stel, incest not cool!" Gus teased.

"I meant, I am worried about him since Peyton..." Stella cast a look over at Lindsay.

"Don't worry, he told me Peyton was staying in London earlier today, I am somewhat in the loop, ya know!" Lindsay sighed.

"How was he after I left Wednesday night?" Gus asked.

Stella blew her curls out of her face, "About as easy to read as always. Like all men, it seems."

"I hear you", Lindsay agreed.

The women chatted from a while longer, from lightheaded topics to more serious. They were extremely supportive when Gus poured out the whole story of Dimitri and that night.

"You were actually going to have Mac come and uncuff you?" Lindsay asked in disbelief.

"Well, you both were busy", Gus replied.

"How did you get loose?" Lindsay prodded.

"I interrupted Flack's date and he came over" Gus said to the floor.

"He left the socialite to come here, I bet she loved that!" Stella replied.

Gus rolled her eyes, "No kidding, but for what he told me, he was already tired of the Uptown crowd and she told him to get a new job so he told her to get a new boyfriend."

Stella and Lindsay stared at her.

Gus looked at them curiously,"What?"

"He told you this?" Lindsay squeaked.

"Yeah, why?" Gus looked at them quizzically.

The other women exchanged looks, "No reason" Stella said.

"None at all", Lindsay echoed.

"Okay", Gus replied, wondering what the other two women were thinking but not wanting to get into it just then.

Stella switched subjects again, questioning Gus about her time in purgatory.

"I don't know how long Sinclair is planning on punishing me, but I can tell you it is getting old already. There was a reason I didn't go into PR and marketing in college", Gus said with disdain.

"Because you don't play well with others?" Lindsay suggested.

"And because I wanted to make money when I got out of school", Gus said.

"Which does not explain why you became a cop", Stella teased playfully.

"I became a cop because it wanted to help, same reason I was a therapist...but it didn't seem like enough and being stuck traipsing between city hall and the precinct sure as hell doesn't seem like enough!" Gus ranted.

"Then it looks like you need to give somebody a piece of your mind", Stella supplied.

Gus nodded her head in agreement, "You're damn right, I do!"

The women talked for a while longer until the other two started complaining about how late it was getting seeing they both were on call over the weekend. Gus bid them farewell and sat thinking in her apartment for a good portion of the weekend.

* * *

Monday morning found Gus in Paul's office, fueled by her ruminating over the weekend while everyone else was working or busy.

"Look, here's the deal, Matthews, and I am going to go tell Sinclair the same thing...I get you think it is a great thing to have this watchdog in the department, but there are cases sitting on my desk going unsolved and the best thing for the people of this city is not to have pretty little sound bites, but for me to get out there bringing justice to victims. Thus, here's the deal, I am going to get back to work and I will call you when I think you or the public needs to know something", Gus took a deep breath, internally wincing as she waited for the wrath of the mayor's office.

Paul shocked her to stammering silence when he leaned back and said, "Good, that's what Sinclair was hoping for."

"That's what, Sinclair was wha-?" Gus felt herself start backing towards the door, banging into a metal trash can and tearing her pantyhose on the way, "Shit!" she swore, bending down to survey the damage.

"You okay?" Paul asked, standing over her, close enough that she banged her head on his chin as she stood up.

"Ouch", she yelped as he rubbed at his chin, mumbling something about her hard head.

Gus stood there rubbing her head as Paul rubbed his chin until both burst out laughing.

"How have you not shot yourself?" Paul asked.

"Lucky, I guess. Now what is this load of horse crap about Sinclair?"

"He wanted to make sure you were ready to be back in the field", Paul explained.

"And he thought the best way was to take me out of the field?" Gus asked, incredulous.

"Maybe he wanted to make sure you knew you wanted to be back in the field?" Paul ventured.

"Why all the cloak and dagger stuff?" Gus pondered.

Paul cleared his throat, "I think he wanted you out of the precinct for a couple of days."

"What for?"

Paul shrugged, "Got me, you'll have to ask him. All I know is he wanted me to babysit you until refused to work with me anymore."

Gus squared her shoulders in anger, "Babysit me?"

"I didn't mean it like that...look, it has been great to have insight into the homicide department, and it has made my life a heck of a lot easier having something to give the press other than 'no comment' and it doesn't hurt that you are easy on the eyes-" Paul cut off when he saw the glare Gus was giving him. "How about I call Sinclair and tell him you are on the way over to his office?"

"Yeah, good idea!" Gus snapped.

"Babysit me?" Gus growled as she stormed into Sinclair's office past his secretary.

"Nice to see you this morning, Detective Broussard, won't you come in", Sinclair replied calmly barely looking up as Gus burst in.

"Where do you get off shipping me over to Public Information as some sort of test and telling Matthews to babysit me? I don't need someone to watch over me, thank you very much!"

"Your actions the other night beg to differ, Broussard", Sinclair said after a long pause. He motioned for Gus to sit. "Your compatriot at _The National_ is of interest to many different people. I was covering you ass and mine by ensuring that you weren't getting reported to IAB by anyone that may have been observing his comings and goings that night", Sinclair explained.

"You could have told me as much before you punted me off!" Gus exclaimed.

Sinclair patted his stomach with a satisfied look, "I could have, but this also gave me the opportunity to guarantee that you were on the path you were supposed to be on in the department."

"I wasn't aware there was any doubt to that", Gus took in Sinclair's look and tacked on, "sir."

"Well, it never hurts to be sure. And it was nice to not have the mayor's office calling over here every five minutes."

"That is all well and good, but you are going to have to find yourself another spy, because there is too much that needs to be done out there to be yanking a good cop off the streets."

"And you think you are a good cop, detective?" Sinclair asked leaning towards her.

"No, I don't think I am a good cop, I know I am a great cop. Yes, I am a klutz, and yes, I have some personal relationship issues to work on, but I do my job and I do it well", Gus said, staring Sinclair down.

A smile finally spread across Sinclair's face, "I can't argue with any of that. But Broussard, you are still on probation and don't get too comfortable in homicide, we still might need you elsewhere."

"Still looking to me to be your pretty face for the news, I think Matthews has that covered", Gus retorted.

Sinclair shook his head, "No, I agree, however Major Case and Special Vics do have occasion to need young, experienced, females that are good in the field and you do fit the bill. Unless you want to voice objections to that as well?" His look said to not argue.

"You won't get an argument out of me in that regard, sir, I just want to be out in the field."

"In that case, go see your Lieutenant, he has a replacement weapon for you, try to not be relieved of this one", Sinclair sighed.

"What about IAB?" Gus asked.

"You never know with IAB, but you seem safe", Sinclair admitted, though he thought it wouldn't hurt for her to be put under the scrutiny of IAB if incidents kept collecting in her file. "Do you need something else, Broussard?" Sinclair asked impatiently.

Gus shook her head, "No, sir."

"Then get out of my office!" he roared.


	8. Everything You Do

**Chapter 31: Everything You Do**

Gus went back to the pit, accepted her replacement weapon from Daddino and tried to not listen to the snickers of her colleagues as she sat at her desk sorting through the files littering the surface.

"How long is this going to go on, Parker?" Gus asked the older man as they met at the coffee cart later in the day.

"Until something better comes along. You did lose your weapon to a mob guy, kid, not to mention the whole ecstasy thing. And the boys had a good time hearing you got shipped over to pretty boy in city hall. Flack enjoyed that bit, let me tell you", Parker raised his eyebrows at Gus.

"I'm sure", she said absently stirring her coffee.

"Of course the pictures from OCB didn't help", Parker added, bringing Gus to full attention.

"Pictures?" she screeched, "what pictures?"

Parker backed away carefully, "He's under surveillance, apparently they got a few nice shots of yous two leaving the bar canoodling on the way to a cab. And I gotta say, you looked a little worse for the wear."

Gus response was her storming away whipping out her cell phone.

"You could have told me there were pictures, Flack!" Gus snapped into her phone as soon as a sleepy Flack picked up.

"Wha?" he asked, rubbing the grit from his eyes and groaning as he looked at his clock. He had been stuck at scenes all weekend and had only gotten to sleep a few short hours before.

"Pictures of me in front of _The National_, looking like something the cat dragged in apparently. The Organized Crime Bureau had it under surveillance, ring any bells?" Gus tried to keep her emotions under control.

Flack pulled himself to a sitting position in his studio trying to make sense of what Gus was saying, "I swear I don't know anything about any pictures, sunshine, and I swear ta God, if I do find out anything about them, I will strangle da neck of whatever bozo leaked 'em."

Gus could tell that Flack was only half-awake, his accent much heavier in sleep and anger. "You didn't see them?" Gus pressed on.

"Ya think the guys woulda been that stupid? They're dumb, but not that dumb!" Flack said heading toward the shower, figuring he better head in before Gus killed anyone in OCB.

Gus took a deep breath, "Yeah, you are probably right."

"Look, I'll be there in an hour tops, you in the pit or over at the hall?" Flack asked as he turned on the water.

"I told Matthews were to stick it, so I am back in the pit for now", Gus revealed.

Flack laughed, "I wish I coulda seen the look on his face, how did he take it?"

Gus smiled back, feeling slightly calmer just having talked to Flack, "Both he and Sinclair took it pretty well. I am still on probation and can be yanked from homicide as needed and I am also pretty sure Sinclair would take great delight if IAB was to grill me, but what are you gonna do?"

"Sit tight, and we'll catch lunch when I get there, okay?"

"'Kay", Gus said, hanging up.

A while later, Gus saw Angell and waved her over."Did you happen to see these pictures Parker just told me about?" Gus asked as soon as the other woman was in earshot.

"Briefly, wiseguys in OCB came over here flashing them around, but Daddino sent them packing pretty damn quick. Though I think Lafferty may have gotten his own copies", Angell admitted feeling badly for the other woman.

"Just freaking fabulous", Gus said, dropping her head to her desk.

"Hey, Flack, what are you doing here? Thought you weren't on until three", she heard Angell say and looked up to see Flack walking in.

"Yeah, well had a coupla things to look into", Flack replied stalking off to the OCB's pit.

Gus followed him with her eyes, taking note that Angell's eyes were also taking in Flack's retreating form with a less than professional glint in them. "Of course", Gus groaned to herself and pushed back from her desk.

By the time Gus made it over to Organized Crime, Flack was squared off with a detective and a hush descended the area as soon as Gus walked in. Gus tried to play it off, waving to the couple of detectives she actually knew, but in reality the air was heavy with menace.

Gus couldn't hear what Flack said to the other man, just the low growl in his throat. She also took note of the clench on his jaw and the throbbing vein in his forehead. She bit her lip, regretting following him over here.

Finally, the other detective turned and picked up a sheaf of photographs from his desk, "I think these are yours, Broussard", he stammered.

Gus yanked them out of his hands, refusing to look at them.

"Negatives!" Flack snarled.

"They were digital, I swear!" the man yelped.

"Give me the memory card", Flack demanded.

"We got other shots we need on there, man, hours of work" the detective protested, "I'll erase them right now", he pleaded fumbling at the camera. "See, look, gone" he waved the camera in both Flack and Gus' direction.

"No harm, no foul, right?" his partner asked Gus, his voice wavering.

Gus sneered at them, making a little hissing noise as she flounced out of the room. Flack quickly exited after her, following her out of the building.

"You didn't have to do that, you know", Gus protested once they were away from the building.

Flack didn't reply, other than making a shushing motion and taking the sheaf of photographs from Gus' shaking hands and slipping them inside his jacket pocket. "Now where do you want to go for lunch?" he asked, looking at her gaping at him.

"Wherever you want to", she answered dumbfounded.

"Thanks", Gus as they settled in to a booth in a place around the corner.

Flack looked at her strangely for a moment, "What for? You would have done the same for me."

"The difference being I wouldn't have to for you, Flack, you wouldn't be so stupid."

Flack smirked slightly, "True." He paused and looked at her, "And you ain't stupid, sunshine, you are one of the smartest people I know, and I work with the geek squad."

"But I have the common sense of a rock", Gus mumbled.

"You made a bad choice with a guy, big deal. Look at Stella, her last boyfriend tried to kill her and she had to shoot him. And then Monroe falls for Messer, I mean come on, not the best choice ever", Flack laughed.

Gus rolled her eyes, "The women in your life make bad choices when it comes to men, I get it."

"Not all, not always", he shot back with a wry smile as the air grew heavy between them.

Gus gulped, trying to turn the situation less serious, "It's not just us women-folk you know, Mac just got dumped."

Flack tapped his head, "That wasn't Mac being stupid, that was Peyton."

"I'm not going to win this argument, am I?" Gus asked, flustered.

Flack shook his head slowly, "Nope, you aren't."

The pair spent lunch talking about recent cases and Gus' showdown with Sinclair and Matthews and it very much reminded Gus of when things weren't weird between them, and she desperately missed those times.

"Where did ya just go there, sunshine?" Flack asked as he waved the waiter over for their check.

"Just thinking", Gus replied.

"Watch that!" Flack teased.

As they got back to pit, Flack stalked off and beckoned for Gus to follow.

"What?" she asked, curious.

Flack stopped in front of the shredder, pulling the folded pictures out of his pocket. "You want to do the honors, or should I?"

Gus pursed her lips, "You aren't going to look at them?" she inquired.

"Nope, I don't see a reason for either of us too. Besides, I've already seen you before coffee, so how bad could these be?" he teased.

"Very funny", Gus retorted.

Flack raised his eyebrows and turned on the shredder, feeding the papers through all at once, "Now if you will excuse me, I am going to make Lafferty cough up his copies."

Gus returned to her desk to find a mountain of files on it and looked at them in horror. Daddino came sauntering by her desk. "Well you wanted to be out in the field, didn't you?" he said with a smirk.

"Yeah? So?" Gus asked, wondering what the hell was going on now.

"These are all the open cases in the department that have been put on the back burner. Too new to be cold, too low profile to spend too much time on. I suggest you get cracking", Daddino informed her, bopping her lightly on the head with a file.

"Thanks Loo, I think", Gus said, moaning as Parker came by to drop another handful of files are her desk.

Gus' desk phone rang the next day as she was deep into reading through all the files, "Broussard."

"How is my favorite homicide detective doing with her serving of the people?"

"Matthews", Gus sighed into the phone, "And how can I possibly be your favorite homicide detective? I told you off just yesterday morning?"

Paul laughed, "You should hear the normal response I get from your ilk. Believe me, you were nice."

"Well, if I would have known that, I would have unloaded a little more", Gus laughed, causing Flack to look across their desks in curiosity. Gus ignored him, turning around in her chair, causing Flack to become even more interested.

"I'm glad you didn't, I don't know if my ego could have handled it", Paul retorted.

"Somehow I think your ego would have remained in tack just fine. You weren't the one being...what was it 'baby-sat'?" Gus dripped.

"Yeah, about that..." Paul trailed off.

"Yeah, how about that?" Gus shot back causing Paul to tense up, this conversation was not going the way he planned.

"Look, Broussard, I didn't mean what I said, and I can see how you might think I am a complete asshole, but I would like to change that opinion if it is possible."

Gus snorted, "You a miracle worker now?"

Paul sighed heavily, "How about we call a truce, huh Broussard? You stop busting my chops for one night, I take you out, dinner, theater, the whole New York shebang and then you decide if I am a jerk or not."

"I'm sorry, are you asking me out on a date?" Gus sputtered.

"I am asking you to take the chance to get to know me before I lose my only connection to homicide. And so you just happen to be the only hot detective I have met, so yeah, maybe I am asking you out on a date", Paul admitted, sounding a little bashful.

"You haven't met Angell yet", Gus said.

"Who?" Paul asked, bewildered.

"Never mind", Gus replied, thinking about how confusing this all was and her recent conversations with the girls and Mac and Flack.

She paused just long enough to make Paul wonder if she had hung up. "Broussard, you still there?"

Gus chewed on her lip, "One chance, Matthews, that is all you get", she said finally and hung up.

Her phone immediately rang again. "Broussard", she huffed.

"How about Thursday?" Matthews persisted.

"Fine!" she snipped and hung up the phone again.

"What was that about?" Flack asked as she turned her chair back around.

"I am not sure, blue eyes, not sure at all", she said, diving back deep into the files.

* * *

**Chapter 32: Be That Way**

_**A/N: Spoilers for "Down the Rabbit Hole" which I think is 405.**_

"You're here early", Gus said, slumping down at her desk.

"Early or late depending. Got called out to a scene last night, haven't been home yet", Flack replied, flipping through his file.

"Explains the smell."

"Very funny."

"How about I got get us a couple of coffees and you can fill me in on the latest adventures in homicide?" Gus said, giving him a small smile.

"So you can tell your new friend all about it?" Flack said, with more than a little venom in his voice.

Gus took a deep breath. "No, so I can maybe try to get back to actual work rather than this bureaucratic bullshit Brass has me drowning in."

Flack cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what to say next. Gus closed her eyes before turning to get their drinks.

"Sorry about before", Flack said halfway through his cup.

"Whatever, we'll blame it on lack of sleep", Gus shrugged.

"Must be what's going on with Mac too."

Gus looked at him, wrinkling her brow. "Still not sleeping? He must be turning into me."

Flack gave a small laugh, "Guess so."

"So tell me about this case", Gus prodded.

"It's like a damn cartoon world come to life. Seems this girl got offed, after leaving this club, which is not so weird on its own, but she had herself all done up like a...oh damn what did Adam call it? An avatar?"

"Like in computer games?" Gus asked.

"Nerd", Flack shot back.

Gus glared at him."I take it you don't want my help?"

"Not much you can help on", Flack replied, "still waiting on autopsy and the lab."

"Well how about I help you catch up on your paperwork in the meantime, since you are running out of desk?" Gus pointed at the piles.

"Thanks, Gus", Flack said, suddenly not sure what to say next.

They worked the day away, until finally Danny called with a lead on a suspect, thanks to Adam playing computer games. "Gotta go", Flack said, slipping on his jacket.

"Have fun out there for me, would ya?" Gus replied, still buried in her own files.

"Will do", he said before disappearing out the precinct.

* * *

The day had gone to hell, leading into an equally miserable evening. Flack couldn't believe their suspect had just disappeared. Brass was having kittens, no wonder with an assassin on the loose. Flack leaned against the building pulling out the old fashioned lighter. He wasn't proud of the fact that he had picked up smoking again this summer, but he also wasn't proud of the reasons behind his horrible summer. The thing that sucked the worst was now it was fall and soon these smoke breaks would be taken huddled in the alley out of the wind, trying to avoid snow slipping down your back.

"Dammit, Gus!" he swore.

"Pardon", said the man in a light trench coat beside him.

"Nothin', sorry man", Flack muttered.

"You work here?" the man questioned.

"Yeah, homicide."

The man nodded, "Must be one hell of a job."

Flack gave a shrug,"What about you?"

"A cop?", the man shook his head, "No way, couldn't pay me enough. I work with the Mayor's office, bad enough as it is."

"I hear ya, name's Flack", he replied sticking out his hand.

His fellow smoker took it with a quick pump, "Nice to meet ya, Flack, Paul Matthews."

"Oh, the PR guy", Flack smirked, though he felt a chill run down his spine. Something was not sitting well with him, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Yep, guilty as charged. And hey, here she is, New York's sexiest detective" Paul called.

Flack followed the man's smiling gaze to the woman who was making her way down the steps, his heart stopping when he saw her smile in return, "Gus" he yelped.

"You know Augusta?"

Flack stomped on his cigarette butt with venom, "Yeah, I know Gus" he growled.

"Hey, Matthews, saw you mugging it up on channel 2", Gus said sliding up to the pair of men, "And Flack, I know I did not just see you smoking after all the hell you gave me."

As Flack started to speak, Matthews cut between them, "We should go if we want to make it to the theater on time."

'Theater', Flack thought to himself, and then took in the little black dress Gus was wearing under her coat. "Have fun", he said to their retreating backs before heading inside to run a background on Mr. Paul Matthews.

* * *

"She took off to California with her boss and didn't even have the courtesy to lie about sharing a hotel room with him?" Gus shrieked into her wine with dinner.

Paul shook his head with a sad grin, "Nope, I mean I've been in the guest room for six months, but I was holding out hope until she informed me to, and I quote 'not be shocked if Steven answers the phone' if I called her out there."

"Harsh, looks like you have a track record about as good as mine", Gus said, spearing a bit of her steak.

Paul studied her for a long beat, "Nice to see you are a girl who eats. And speaking of track records, I heard a couple of rumors about you and your former partner."

Gus struggled to not choke, taking a big slug of wine and wiping at her mouth. "Get right to the point, don't you? We were together, and now we aren't. It wasn't the wisest choice to get involved with someone I work with on a daily basis, but I have never been the queen of wise choices."

"What about someone you don't work with on a daily basis?" Paul said with a seductive smile.

"Depends on how involved you mean", Gus shot back, not breaking eye contact.

Paul squirmed slightly, to which Gus gave a hearty laugh. "Speaking of right to the point", he teased, "but I suppose whatever you are up for."

Gus considered this for a moment, feeling the full weight of Paul's lustful gaze on her. "Nothing serious, that damn much I can tell you, but I might be up for a little fun."

"In that case, how about dessert back at my place in Bay Ridge?"

* * *

**Chapter 33: Friends**

Gus paused, seeing the flickering of a fame flare and extinguish. Someone was definitely out there. "Hold that thought", she said to Paul as she moved off of both him and the sofa.

"What?" he asked, blinking in confusion as they had been making out hot and heavy seconds before.

"Just don't move", Gus ordered, pulling her dress down and slipping in her gun out of her purse.

"Kinky", he said with a grin.

"No, you idiot, there is someone out there, watching us."

Gus flung open the front door and pointed her gun into the bushes bellowing, "NYPD, don't give me a reason to shoot you." Gus winced when she heard the reply, she had been hoping for anything but this.

"Sunshine?" Flack said sheepishly, stepping out from behind the hedges, a freshly lit cigarette hanging from his lip.

"Damn it", Gus sighed, slumping against the railing.

"Everything okay out here? Do I need to call the cops?" Paul asked from the shadows of his foyer.

"I am the cops, Paul! And everything is fine, more or less, I just think we are going to call it a night. I'll call you later." Gus slipped in and grabbing her belongings and ducking around Paul as he craned his neck out the door. "Night, Paul", Gus said, moving back around him and pulling the door closed.

Gus moved down to the other side of the hedge, where Flack was stubbing out his unsmoked cigarette. "These things will kill ya", he joked halfheartedly.

"That would be better for you, because I plan on killing you in a much more painful manner", Gus growled at him with such venom that Flack took a step back, flattening himself against the brick of the house.

"I just didn't think he was the right kind of guy for you and after I ran a background on him...", Flack started to explain as Gus closed the space between them and gripped his upper arm.

Gus dropped her vice grip as her mouth fell open in shock."You didn't think he was the right kind of guy for me, so you checked up on him and then you decided to spy on me?"

Flack shrugged, this had seemed like a much better idea earlier when he floated it by Messer."You deserve better, Gus, that's all, I was just looking out for you. That's what partners do."

"That's what partners do?" Gus hated herself for parroting him, taking a deep breath she launched into a tirade. "No, partners make sure you ass doesn't get shot out there, partner's back you up when maybe you get a little rough with a suspect or cover for you when you are late coming in or make sure you get home safe after a bender, they don't stake you out on a date and follow you to another frigging borough, Flack!" Her chest was heaving by the end, anger causing her vision to blur.

Flack wanted to reach out to steady her, but was afraid she would lash out at him. "I was just trying to stop you from doing something stupid, something you would regret. He is married, Gus."

"You think I don't know that?" Gus cried out.

Flack looked at her, shock written plainly across his face. "I though that would mean something to you."

Gus shook her head, her hair whipping around her."What meant something to me was that he liked me, for me, and we both wanted a good time. Do you know how long it has been since I have had that? For Christ sakes, Flack, I just wanted to believe that I might have a chance at being happy again, I wasn't planning on breaking up a marriage that wasn't already down the shitter. His wife wasn't at their house because she was off screwing her boss at a conference in LA, but I guess you didn't get that in your background check, huh? It was just going to be a fling."

Flack sighed and rubbed his neck."You can't just do that, just run off with a guy, who knows how you might end up."

Gus narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that some badly veiled reference to what happened with Nasenko?"

"No, it was me not wanting to have to come ID your body down at the morgue or have to watch Mac fall apart when he loses yet somebody else because you were off having fun." Flack set his jaw in a tense line.

Gus threw her hands up in the air. "What the hell do you care anyway?"

"I care because I care about you!" His voice cracked slightly on the end and Gus looked at him for a long moment, trying to decipher if there was a deeper meaning in Flack's words.

"You don't get to play the jealous guy anymore, Don, you gave that up."

"I gave that up?" he demanded, his eyes flashing icy blue.

"Yeah, you did", Gus nodded.

"I am not trying to be jealous, I am trying to keep you safe, something you can't seem to do on your own." Flack gave her a warning look.

"You could have fooled me, because is looking a whole lot like jealousy from where I am standing. You were the one that moved on, first with Devon and then this little flirtation thing going on with Angell!" Gus knew she was yelling and that anyone could overhear, but she didn't particularly care at the moment.

Flack moved in towards her, hoping she would lower her voice before Paul or the other neighbors came out to see what was going on with them."Sounds like jealousy might be running both ways there, sunshine", he replied with a little smirk.

Gus lowered her voice, her rage starting to shut her down. "So what? I am not the one following you around on dates. I am not the one who called it over."

Flack spoke before thinking,"but you were the one that left."

The sound of Gus' palm hitting Flack's cheek shocked both of them more than the actual sting. "Screw you, Flack" Gus hissed as she whirled on her heel and hailed a cab.

"I deserved that", Flack sighed, rubbing at his face.

* * *

Gus patently avoided Flack for the next few days, working diligently to try to get through the mountain of sleeper cases on her desk. On the rare case that they managed to be in the pit at the same time, Gus made sure to find something to do on the phone or with another detective, so she wouldn't have to speak to him. Her rage was still barely contained at his checking up on her, not to mention the fact that she still wasn't sure what was going on between the two of them.

Flack put up with it for a short time, not wanting to make waves with brass still pissed about the assassin case that went so horribly wrong. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't entirely sure why he had followed Gus out to Bay Ridge, other than feeling territorial. Angell had also been paying him a lot of attention lately, and he had to admit it was rather nice to have a female not spitting venom in his direction. But finally, the silence between them was becoming palatable enough for others to comment on it, and Flack had to admit he couldn't stand the gulf between him and Gus. He cornered her by the fax machine, as she was struggling to clear a paper jam.

"There is no damn door D you piece of crap!" Gus screamed at the misbehaving machinery, pounding on it with a vengeance.

"How long is this going to go on?" Flack asked, coming up behind her and blocking her egress.

"Until this hunk of junk starts working again", Gus replied through clenched teeth.

"Not what I was talking about, sunshine and you know it."

"My name is Gus, or Broussard if you prefer, Flack", Gus hissed back, refusing to turn around.

"Quit acting like a brat", Flack said, grabbing her shoulder and spinning her so she was pinned against the machine.

"I'm acting like a brat? You're the stalker here, I'm not the one who-"

"Everything okay in here?" Daddino asked, walking back and cutting his whistle off mid-note.

"Fine!" Flack and Gus snapped in unison.

Daddino shook his head and continued whistling down the hallway, while internally contemplating what it was he could do about his two problem detectives other than lock them in an interrogation room until they worked things out or killed each other. Daddino wasn't sure what would occur first, but he did think that perhaps it was time to give Mac Taylor a call.

"We've been down this road before, Gus, you can't keep avoiding me," Flack said, with a slow shake of his head.

"We don't have to be friends either, Flack, how about we both just do our jobs and try to be professional about it?" Gus raised an eyebrow at him, wanting to cock a hand on her hip, but unable to free enough space to do so.

"I thought we were partners", Flack shot back.

"We haven't been for a while, Flack, besides cops change partners all the time, keeps things fresh. Stops them from getting too attached." Gus struggled to swallow, her throat suddenly closing and her mouth becoming dry.

"Something you know a lot about, right, Broussard?" Flack looked at her, his eyes taking the anger out of his words. He moved to tuck her hair behind her ear, but she ducked under his arm.

"Let me know if that fax comes through, would ya", she mumbled as she rushed out.

* * *

**Chapter 34: Come On Over**

Gus furiously wiped the tears from her eyes as she exited the elevator at the Crime Lab. She didn't have any particular reason to be there, all her cases cold enough that the evidence had been processed, but she just needed to not be down in the pit. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep a lid on her emotions enough that others wouldn't see, and she also knew that far too many of the men down there would be unforgiving.

Focused on keeping up appearances, Gus didn't see the Lieutenant from Special Victims coming down the hall until she ran into her. "Lieutenant Fields, I am so sorry", Gus said, as she stooped to pick of the file folders she had knocked out of the other woman's hands.

"It's fine, I was off in la la land anyway. Apparently that is just another wonderful side effect of being with child", the woman said with a laugh as she accepted the stack from Gus.

"I heard you were expecting, congratulations", Gus replied, more out of reflex than anything. "Thanks, it was a bit of a shock, Phil and I thought we were done with having children."

Gus nodded, shifting her weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to say, she hadn't really talked to Lieutenant Fields since her UC case had gone sideways and her only parting gift had been a stalker and being threatened by Brass.

"Actually, Detective, I was up here looking for you, I heard you might be available to help out other departments."

Gus grimaced, wondering if Daddino had sent out a city wide memo on her recent screw ups. "Are you sure you want me?"

Caroline Fields broke into a hearty laugh at the other woman's shocked expression. "Yes, I am sure. I was young once and made a few mistakes along my way, but I don't think they made me worse at my job. In fact, I would say they made me a better detective. And sometimes we all need a little change of scenery."

Gus studied Caroline carefully. The truth was, she wasn't enjoying working on cold cases and running into nothing but dead ends. Not to mention the fact that after her interrupted date with Paul, she could use a little distance from Flack. Distance she was never going to get as long as she was held captive in the pit. "Fine", she answered.

"You don't even want to know what the case is first?" Caroline asked, furrowing her brow.

"As long as it is something recent and will keep me out of the homicide pit and I don't have to issue press releases, I could care less", Gus said with a nod.

Caroline smiled, "Easiest sell ever, know we just have to clear it with Tony."

"What about Mac?" Gus asked hesitantly, knowing her uncle had her in his sights as of late.

"Whose office do you think I just came from?" Caroline asked with a wry smile.

* * *

"You know how crazy things get around Halloween, Fields", Lieutenant Daddino grumbled from his desk.

"Which is irrelevant considering you have that poor girl sifting through cases that most likely can't even be solved", Caroline shot back.

"That poor girl got relieved of her own weapon after being linked up with her own cuffs by a known Russian mobster!" Daddino replied, reaching for his antacid.

"What, a girl can't have a little fun when off the clock?" Caroline quipped.

"Broussard had a little too much fun on and off the clock. Just ask about her and her partner."

"Come off your high horse, Tony, and give me some of those Tums. We all know how you met your wife, or have you conveniently re-written history?"

"I can't win when arguing with a pregnant woman, can I?"

Caroline shook her head, "Tony, you can't win when arguing with a woman period."

"Ain't that the truth", Daddino replied, waving the woman out of his office.

Gus was throwing some things from her desk to her bag when Flack came in for his afternoon shift.

"They didn't can you, did they?" Flack asked, a bemused grin on his face.

"You should be so lucky", Gus muttered under her breath before looking up. "I'm consulting with Special Vics on an ongoing case", she said, staring Flack down and forcing her insides to stop quivering.

"That mean you are going to miss all the homicide Halloween tricks and treats?" Flack asked, feeling a tinge of worry that Gus was slipping even further away that just Special Vics.

"Somehow I think you monsters can handle things without me", Gus sighed as she hoisted her bag unto her shoulder.

"This isn't permanent, is it, sunshine?"

"Nothing is permanent, Detective Flack", Gus said before walking out of the pit.

Gus walked into the conference room in Special Vics and was suddenly overwhelmed at the amount of people around the table she didn't know all that well. Scratch that, the men she didn't know that well. Other than Lieutenant Fields, she was the only female. Gus pondered this for a moment, because even in a male dominated field, women tended to flock to Special Vics because they felt they could related better.

"Detective Broussard, good to see you. Gentlemen, for those of you who don't know, this is Detective Augusta Broussard from homicide. She is also a clinical psychologist, so try to be on your best behavior around her; I don't want half of my team locked up in Bellevue." Lieutenant Fields motioned for her to take a seat.

"Breaking up the boys club?" a detective joked. Gus thought his name was Ramirez.

"You boys did that to yourselves when you scared away every female on this team", Caroline quipped with a grin, propping herself on the edge of the table, her hands cradling her belly.

"Nah, they were just scared of catching that parasite they heard was going around", Ramirez volleyed back.

"Parasite?" Gus asked under her breath.

The man to Gus' right snickered."He means they were worried about getting knocked up, Loo was the third in a row, other two asked for transfers the next day."

"That's all I frigging need", Gus grumbled.

"Very funny, Ramirez. Now if we could all focus on brining Detective Broussard up to speed on our case, I would really like to be home in time to make sure my teenagers aren't planning on egging anyone's house."

Gus spent the next several hours trying to wrap her head around the case. Apparently a very persuasive gentleman had been convincing Chelsea University co-eds to switch their majors from undecided to solicitation. The matter in which he was doing this was unclear, but all indications were that the young women weren't always volunteering for this creatively illegal way to earn their tuition dollars. University officials had alerted Brass, who didn't want any more screw ups and wanted this matter handled quickly, quietly and effectively.

"You got all of this?" the detective who had been sitting beside her asked as Fields finally released them for the night.

Jimmy Doyle, Gus thought to herself, running through her mental roster of guys on the case."I think so, I hope so", Gus admitted, her head feeling foggy. "Looks like it is going to be a long night of reading", she continued, gesturing to the huge stack of paperwork in her arms.

Jimmy shook his head at her."It's going to take you forever to go through all of that on your own. Why don't we stake out some diner space and I'll show you what is actually relevant."

"Don't you have some place better to be on Halloween?" Gus asked incredulous.

Jimmy looked suddenly bashful, "Wish I did, truth is, I am avoiding going home because I didn't buy any candy this year. My wife usually took care of it, but-" Jimmy broke off.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry", Gus said, her eyes widening.

Jimmy shook her head, "No, no, Penny's not dead. She needed...some time...she's up at some retreat place in Vermont, communing with sap or something."

"Thank god! I mean not that she's there but that she's still..." Gus trailed off, feeling like an idiot.

"So how about that paperwork, Broussard?" Jimmy asked, saving her from further mortification.

"That would be great, thanks", Gus replied, "but you gotta call me Gus."

"Gus it is", Jimmy said, pulling half of the stack out of her hands.

"Holy shit!" Jimmy exclaimed a while later, as Gus was intent on the case file in front of her.

"You got something?" she asked, not looking up.

"Zombies", Jimmy gaped.

"I am not sure what angle you are going for there, Detective Doyle, but I am pretty sure I have never heard of a zombie pimp", Gus said, leaning back in the booth.

"Out there, smart ass", Jimmy said, pointing out the window.

Sure enough, a large group of people costumed and acting like zombies was passing by in the direction of Time Square. "Flash mob, read about it on Twitter", Gus said with a shrug.

"I am going to pretend like I know what any of that means", Jimmy said, still staring.

"Just don't worry about it, and let's get back to the case."

"You always a slave driver?"

"Only when I got a stack of files taller than the Empire State building", Gus retorted, flipping through another file and making furious notations.

Jimmy looked up a couple of minutes later, "So you seriously aren't going to break for zombies, I mean you just don't see that everyday."

Gus replied without even looking up from her note taking. "Doyle, I am from New Orleans, zombies are nothing."

* * *

**Chapter 35: Another Cup of Coffee**

"Heard you had an interesting trip up to Amityville", Gus said, digging in to her breakfast with gusto. She was happy to be catching up with her friend, even if it was early in the day.

Lindsay rolled her eyes before answering. "Doesn't it negate the fact that you are getting egg whites when they are piled high with steak?"

"Says the girl from Montana", Gus teased, "now quit changing the subject."

"It was pretty crazy, I just felt so bad for that poor little girl..." Lindsay trailed off wistfully.

"So, how are things with your cowboy?" Gus asked after a moment of silence.

Lindsay blushed before answering, "You know..."

"Complicated!" both women said in unison, breaking into laughter.

"Heard you helped Mac with the voodoo angle", Lindsay added after they both stopped laughing.

"Not that he will ever give me any credit for it", Gus said with a sigh, "not that I really care, I have been so worried about him lately."

"He's been pretty worried about you too, we all have." Lindsay looked at Gus with eyes full of concern.

"I'm fine. I know it may not appear that way, but I am. Or at least I am getting there. I am excited about working with Special Vics."

Lindsay smiled back at her, "I'm glad. I am sure you will do awesome. And maybe you will get to go undercover."

"Clearly you spend way too much time in the lab if you think going undercover is anything to get excited about, Linds", Gus wiped her mouth with her napkin.

Lindsay opened her mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by the incessant buzzing of her phone. "Dang it, its dispatch", Lindsay said, hitching up her bag.

"I got this one, you go and get 'em, tiger", Gus said waving her off.

Gus returned to the precinct to find Lieutenants Daddino and Fields toe to toe, or belly to belly as was more apt for the pregnant Fields and the too long on his ass Daddino.

"Rape victims are always handled by SVD, Tony, you know that."

"And homicides belong to homicide, end of story", Daddino shot back, not seeming to care that he was yelling at a pregnant woman.

Gus was willing to bet that those two had worked together before and this was not the first argument they had had.

"But one of my people should at least have been called out to the scene, considering who your suspect is", Fields rared back, not letting Daddino gain any ground.

Gus thought about trying to sneak back out, but Daddino caught her eye. "Dammit", Gus muttered.

"Broussard, get your ass over here!"

Gus looked from Lieutenant to Lieutenant, not sure who she should be answering to. Fields waved her over, sealing her fate.

"Look, we just caught a homicide, sticky case, Mitchell Bentley, you recognize the name?" Daddino asked.

Gus thought for a moment, "Yeah, just acquitted on rape and attempted murder, case in Central Park, right?"

Fields nodded, "Yes, and it seems homicide has brought in his victim as their primary suspect."

"Alleged", Daddino added.

Gus wasn't sure what her response was supposed to be, or what they were suggesting. "And?" she said finally, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

"Taylor and Flack have her in IR 4 right now, go observe!" Daddino ordered and then turned to Fields, "there, you happy now?"

"The only thing better than one boss is several", Gus grumbled as she made her way down the hall.

Gus watched through the two-way as Flack paced around a slight woman in scrubs that sat at the table in the center of the room. She seemed to be protesting her innocence, but Gus noted something very much off about the woman's affect.

Mac gave her an odd look as he stepped around her to enter the interview room, file and evidence bag in hand. She continued to watch as the woman, Fern, flippantly cut down the prosecutor and lawyered up.

"Smart woman", Gus quipped as Mac voiced the deduction Gus had been forming about the woman's potential guilt.

"Come with me", Mac said to her as he exited the room, Flack barely glancing in her direction on Mac's heels.

"What do you think?" Mac asked, as he displayed the photographs of the crime scene on the monitor in his office.

"Overkill", Gus said, taking in the multiple knives sticking out of the victim's back. Mac nodded, waiting for her to continue. "But calm, methodical, not a rage killing at all. It looks like there is a pattern to the knives. It would have been easier to go in for a kill shot right away, only takes one knife. Unless you didn't have the strength for that. Bentley's a bigger guy, would take a lot to take him down. Might explain the weird circular pattern on the blood trail", Gus replied pointing.

Gus looked closer, something niggling at the back of her brain. "This reminds me of something, I just can't figure out what."

Mac studied his niece as she studied the crime scene, her demeanor changing as she postulated her theory. She seemed much more like her old self, something Mac was starting to think he wasn't ever going to see again. "We aren't going to loose you to SVD are we, Gussie?" Mac asked quietly.

Gus looked over her shoulder at him, "Would you miss me, Uncle Mac?" She smiled and shook her head, "Nah, something tells me I am not going to be able to take the live victims for very long, but I'm taking what I can get." She turned back to the photos, "What the hell am I missing?"

"You remember that time Claire and I went to Spain?" Mac said, after a long pause.

"Bullfighting?" Gus exclaimed, "Where the hell do you find a bullfighter in New York?"

"I am hoping Stella can shine some light on that for me", Mac replied, heading out of his office. He paused at his doorway, "Don't stay over in Special Vics too long, Gus."

Gus wasn't sure if it was a request or a warning.

* * *

Gus left Mac's office, her sights set on the coffeepot across the hall in the lab's kitchen. She practically collided with an unhappy looking Adam entering at the same time. "Awfully early for it to be that bad of a day isn't it?" she asked, as Adam slumped at a table and pulled out a bottle full of yellow liquid.

Gus stared at it for a moment, as she stirred creamer into her coffee. "Adam, what the hell are you drinking?"

He looked sheepish for a moment, making a face after he swallowed. "Well, it's lemon juice, pepper flakes, and maple-"

"You are seriously not telling me you are going all Beyonce and Master Cleansing it are you? Adam!" Gus chastised.

"I've just been putting on some weight since..." he trailed off, "comfort eating, I guess."

"God lord Adam, I think I might be shoving some treats in my face too if I had been there!"

"Yeah, but you would look hot anyway, you wouldn't have girls telling you your baby fat is cute." Adam looked more than a little downtrodden.

Gus snorted, sliding in a chair next to him, "Clearly that girl doesn't know her ass from a hole in the ground. Probably some stick thin praying mantis that hasn't eaten in months. You are fine, Adam, I promise. I would-" She cut off as Kendall entered the kitchen, giving her the evil eye and zeroing in on the hand that was patting Adam on the arm. She noticed Adam stiffen as well.

"Hey, Kendall, bet you've had your hands full this morning", Gus called cheerily as the other woman poured a cup of coffee and sat across from them.

"I guess we all have", she replied coolly, taking a long swallow of her coffee.

Gus wasn't sure how to respond to this, and could tell that Adam was growing increasingly uncomfortable, judging by his squirming. "Well, I should head back to the pit. Nice seeing you again, Kendall. And Adam, I'm serious, you don't have anything to worry about."

Adam gave her a halfhearted finger wave and Kendall gave her a chilly smile as she exited.

"Just what I need, more drama", she sighed, punching the down button on the elevator.

"So I am getting you back", Lieutenant Fields said with slight surprise in her voice.

"Yeah, well, they are stuck in lab land, and that may take a while", Gus said with a shrug.

Fields pointed, "Rest of the team is in the conference room, working on the boards, we got some new intel on a possible club owner who may be part of the ring. Hope you are up for some surveillance."

"Oh joy. But with enough coffee and donuts..." she trailed off thinking of Adam and his wacky diet, "or maybe some water and carrot sticks."

* * *

**Chapter 36: Another Lit Bit**

Nice of you to join us, Broussard", Ramirez chided as Gus walked into the conference room.

Gus narrowed her eyes, but didn't say anything as she slumped into an empty chair.

"Heard you got pulled back to homicide", Jimmy Doyle leaned over to whisper to her.

Gus nodded, trying to catch up with the information on the board and that being given by the team lead, Mike Turner.

"It's not going to be obvious, and we still aren't sure if this is the place. This is going to be a drawn out thing, so I suggest you clear your schedules", Turner was saying.

Groans sounded throughout the room.

"My wife is going to kill me", one of the men groaned.

"Are you kidding, bitch wouldn't put you out of your misery that easily", retorted another.

"Settle it down, boys, and girl. We start tonight, do I have any volunteers?"

No one moved a muscle, until Gus realized she should probably play nice and raised her hand.

"Thank you very much Broussard. Now that we some attractive company, is anyone else willing to volunteer?"

Gus tried to not be annoyed by the nervous looks exchanged around the room, or by the lack of hands raised.

Finally Doyle raised his eyebrows and her and held up a pen, "I'm in, not hell else to do."

"Good", Turner said with a nod, "take a look at the specs and the surrounding topography. And then go catch some sleep before your watch."

Gus yawned, daybreak was right around the corner, but she was feeling the long night of watching nothing deep down in her bones. It had been an uneventful night, other than witnessing a couple of drug deals and domestics, not that they could do anything about them. The club was pretty dead, if the lack of line behind the velvet rope was any indication.

Doyle was nice enough company, not too talkative and not perverted either, a rare combination, Gus felt. They chatted, mostly about the usual stuff that cops who have just met each other chat about. Why the job, worst cases and so on.

Gus found herself not holding back on anything, but not feeling emotional about her story. She also had to give props to Doyle for not reacting much to it either. Gus chalked that up to him working so long with Special Vics, that job clearly required a lead stomach.

She jumped at the rap on the window. "Need your beauty sleep?" Ramirez joked as she rolled down the window.

"Obviously you didn't get yours", she shot back, taking the coffee that he offered.

"You two can pack it in, I've got day shift", he said with a scowl.

"You need a ride home?" Doyle asked as they got back to the precinct to drop off the unmarked back to the pool.

"Nah, I'm good", Gus said, waving him off as she signed the car back in.

"You do know you can go home and get some sleep, right Broussard?"

Gus nodded, "See you, Doyle."

Gus ran into Flack as she was hanging up the keys to the car. "You coming or going?" Flack asked looking her up and down.

Gus yawned again. "Going. Surveillance all night. Bored off my ass. What about you?"

Flack gave her a small smile, "Mac got a lead in the Bentley case. Need to sit on a publisher who, get this, has ten grand fake eyelashes."

Gus shook her head, "I wish that made more sense, on so many levels, but I think I'm brain dead."

"Take care, sunshine", Flack said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

Gus turned to say something more, to apologize for their last blow up, but she caught sight of Angell coming toward them and saw the flash of excitement behind Flack's blue eyes. Gus knew that look, she knew it all too well, and she couldn't say she liked seeing it in his eyes for another woman one little bit. And it was her own damn fault.


	9. I Told Ya

**Chapter 37: I Told Ya**

Despite weeks of surveillance, they were getting nowhere. The most you would tell was that the club was popular with the usual short-skirted, long haired, beautiful set that most clubs in the city with velvet ropes were. Most of the patrons looked like they could be call girls, but so did most girls out clubbing on any given night. Gus felt she had lost most of the feeling in her hind-end and was quickly running out of things to talk about with Doyle that weren't more personal than either of them were willing to delve into. They were well aware their partnership was temporary and neither were looking for a new best friend. It didn't help that her old team was riding high on the wave of having closed several potentially high profile cases. She culled most of this knowledge from brief phone calls, but was feeling very out of the loop with the old team.

Gus desperately craved a night off, but she wasn't sure that was going to happen anytime soon. She was pleasantly surprised to be sprung a couple of nights later, and was quickly debating the merits of bubble bath then ice cream or ice cream then bubble bath. Gus had been about to combine the two when her phone rang.

"Oh come on!" she cried, and then felt bad when she saw it was Reed. "Hey cuz", she replied, hoping nothing was wrong. Gus took in the wave of words Reed threw at her, which is what happened when you didn't talk to the boy in a few weeks, and realized he was asking her to some CD release party for one of his favorite bands.

"A club? Are you seriously asking me to go to a club on my night off?"

Reed hesitated, "Er, yeah, Gus, I just know you like them and stuff and I got on the guest list so..."

Gus laughed, "It's not you, it's just this case, I've been doing a lot of...oh never mind. If I can wear jean and chucks, I'm in."

"Cool, see you at nine then", Reed said, already tuned out.

Gus was pulling on her shoes, though she had decided on something other than tattered sneakers, when Reed knocked on her door. "It's open", she called, throwing things into a smaller purse.

"Don't you know this is the big city?" Reed said walking in and giving her a hug.

Gus rolled her eyes and hugged him back.

"I just buzzed you in, you dork, and besides, I could have shot you if you weren't you."

"Good to know, and those aren't chucks", Reed answered, taking in her heels.

"I don't get out much", Gus said, feeling suddenly self-conscious. She knew the club would be full of cute little twenty somethings, and she wasn't sure if she fit that bill anymore. "Besides, this means the cab is on me", she said locking up behind them.

"Good because my job doesn't pay squat, yet", Reed shot back with a smile, feeling towered over by his leggy cousin.

"Why, why would he take 42nd?" Gus hissed at Reed as the cabbie got caught in traffic.

"I thought you might want to see crazy party on billboard, every Friday night, miss", the heavily accented cab driver replied. Gus blushed, not realizing he had heard her.

Gus looked at Reed who shrugged, "I am shocked they are still doing it after the martini mix murder."

"The what?" Gus asked.

"Aren't you reading my blog?" Reed looked downtrodden.

"Er, when I have time", Gus replied sheepishly.

"It got a ton of hits", Reed sniffed, "and Stella cleared it, right around the time Mac solved that kidnapping case with the doctor's brother."

Gus stared at him blankly until Reed rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Jesus, I am out of it", she replied with a sigh, "but I really could care less, can we just get out of this mess, please?"

The cabbie nodded, wheeling it up 6th Ave, where the traffic was noticeably lighter. They arrived to the club shortly after, and Gus was happy that she had decided to minimally dress up, but that she had also worn some semblance of clothing, because so many of the girls stood shivering in the November night air.

"Hellooo, New York, in the North", Reed snipped beside her.

"I really do love you sometimes, Reed", she laughed, "so how is the City Desk going?"

Reed looked downtrodden, "Bo-ring, which is why I think I want to blow it off and go blog full-time."

"Do you plan on starving the rest of your life?" Gus teased.

Reed got an excited gleam in his eyes, "I just want to feel like I am actually doing something, not just bringing reporters coffee. Besides, blogging is the future, newspapers are practically dinosaurs. Plus, between you and Mac, I kind of have an in."

Gus narrowed her eyes, "An in? Have you talked to Mac about this, does he even know what you are doing?"

Before Reed could answer, a voice came from behind them. "Uh, Gus?"

Gus turned slowly, wondering who would be at some gritty little club in Hell's Kitchen that she would know, other than her cousin. She smiled, realizing it wasn't such a shock that he was here. "Hey, Adam!" she greeted brightly, waving him over to join them in line. "You remember Reed, don't you?"

Adam reached out a hand to shake Reed's, "Hey man, good to see you." Reed looked Adam up and down carefully before nodding back.

Gus furrowed her brow, wondering what that was all about. "So...are you here with anyone?" Gus asked at the same time Adam said, "I didn't know you liked them."

Reed made a face and turned his attention to his phone, where he was busy texting.

"Reed's friends with the drummer or something, and we hadn't hung out in a while", Gus explained.

Adam nodded, trying not to stare at the glimpse of flesh showing between her shirt and her jeans as she gestured. He looked around at the crowd behind them. "I hope I'm not going to get my ass kicked for cutting in line."

Gus laughed heartily."Adam, honey, you work for NYPD, I'm a cop, the only thing that will happen is they won't let us in fearing we are narcs." She slipped him a smile, "besides, I got your back."

Adam blushed slightly, before pulling out his buzzing phone.

Gus took in the cloud that passed over his eyes. "Called in?" she inquired.

Adam shook his head, his curls bouncing slightly. "Nah, it's just-" he paused, unsure if he wanted to continue, "I was supposed to meet Kendall here, apparently she got a better offer." His jaw tightened beneath his beard.

Gus fought the urge to hug him, wondering why he wasted his time with such flighty women. "In that case, first drink is on me", Gus offered, sunnily.

"It's an open bar", Reed interjected, somewhat bemused, but also confused, he felt like he had a lot of catching up to do with his cousin.

"Reed, sugar, we need to hang out more often", Gus observed as the doors to the club opened.

"I didn't think I was going to get to come tonight", Adam said taking a gulp of his drink, and wondering why it was so hot in the club.

"Lab backed up again?" Gus asked, sipping on her vodka cranberry. Adam studied her for a moment, slightly surprised. "What?" she asked self-consciously, touching her face.

Adam ran a hand through his hair, "just, you know, the puzzles, and Mac and Chicago."

Gus shook her head, her blond hair ripping around her. "I know Mac and Chicago, but what about puzzles?" Just then the opening act stormed the stage, the club turning black and noise blocking out Adam's response. "What?" Gus called out.

Adam leaned in, yelling back, "just a lab rat, but putting together puzzles, like a six-year-old and he flies off to Chicago!"

Gus shook her head and looked around, spotting a staircase behind the bar. She grabbed at Adam's arm, dragging him upstairs before he could respond.

"I mean, okay, but I'm not really sure, and Flack and-" Adam stuttered as Gus pushed him down to a low slung sofa on the third floor of the club. The music drowned out to a low throb below.

"What?" Gus asked, towering over him, a hand on her hip.

"It's just, I mean, you are really, really pretty and all and smart and wicked cool, but Flack is like a big guy."

"Adam!" Gus trilled.

"Huh?"

"Shut up and tell me what is going on!"

Adam gaped at her for a moment before wrinkling his forehead, "I can't do both."

"Can't do what?" Gus patience was wearing thin and Mac was not answering his phone.

"Shut up and tell you what is going on, I mean I suppose I could write it down or something and that would keep me quiet."

Gus clenched her jaw. "Adam, I don't want to hit you, but I will."

Adam swallowed noisily.

Gus took a deep breath and sat beside him, "I have no clue what you are talking about, so could you start from the beginning?"

Adam nodded before telling her about Stella and the puzzle left on her car, the missing puzzle pieces, the additional crime scenes, the second and third puzzles and Mac figuring out that someone was luring him to Chicago. He ended with, "so I guess you aren't talking much to him anymore?"

Gus raised her eyebrows and snorted lightly. "Something like that. Actually, I haven't really talked to anyone on the team for more than two minutes in the last couple of weeks", she calculated in her mind, "maybe longer."

"You must really like it over there in Special Victims, huh?" Adam asked.

Gus paused before answering. "I don't know, I haven't really done much more than sit on my ass watching a stupid club. Intelligence collecting requires very little actual intelligence it seems." She smiled wryly, "but I suppose I deserve being off in Siberia, I did kind of ask for it."

Adam looked at her with wide a serious eyes, "why did you, ask for it, I mean?"

"I needed a break, from the team, from homicide, from..." she trailed off.

"From Flack?" Adam ventured.

A sharp intake of breath stabbed at her lungs, Gus hated being so transparent, hating having got involved with her partner in the first place, hated being vulnerable and human.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Adam tried to back peddle, feeling suddenly trapped.

"No harm done", Gus said with a small smile, "so why don't you tell me what else has been going on with the team?"

"What makes you think anyone tells me anything?"

"Come off it, Adam, you are far more than the adorkable lab rat."

"Adorkable?" he teased, raising his eyebrows.

"Just spill", Gus growled.

Gus listened intently as Adam filled her in on the latest Danny and Lindsay drama, Stella's burgeoning relationship with Drew, Kendall's flighty nature, Sid's creepy adventures, Hawkes' cracking of the murdered groom in Central Park, and just about everything except the continued flirtations he had seen between Flack and Angell. He felt the need to protect Gus from that knowledge, even though it was quickly becoming department gossip. Adam was sure Gus would get wind of it soon, if she hadn't already, but he just could not bring himself to say Flack's name again. He couldn't stand to see the light go out of her eyes like it had minutes before.

"See, I knew you would know all of what's been going on", Gus said, punching him lightly on the shoulder, "now how about we go catch the headliner before Reed thinks I am ditching him."

* * *

**Chapter 38: Trouble**

Gus was out for hated but needed morning jog when she spotted a familiar face walking out of 1 PP. Knowing there was nothing the commissioner would ever want with her, she started to jog past.

"Detective Broussard", his voice boomed by her.

"Sir", Gus said, stopping in her tracks, trying to not pant.

"I've received some very interesting early morning phone calls. I don't suppose you know anything about them do you?"

"About the prostitution club case, we have a briefing later today, but I'm just collecting intelligence, sir, I am sure Lieutenant Fields could fill you in better", Gus shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"About your uncle, flying to Chicago", the commissioner replied shortly.

"Did he charge it to the department?" Gus asked, not wanting to give anything away, especially when she knew so little in the first place. Though she had to admit that she was a bit miffed that Mac had been oh so concerned about her lately, but wasn't telling her a damn thing about what was going on in his life, when he was the one with the stalker.

The commissioner looked her up and down. "Not as far as I know."

"Well then, I assume it is personal business. I am sure Stella Bonasera can fill you in on anything relating to the crime lab. Now if you don't have anything else, I would like to finish my run." Gus didn't give him a chance to respond before bounding off Uptown.

Gus looked at her phone in disgust before heading into SVD's weekly briefing. It had gone to Mac's voice mail for what seemed like the hundredth time. An annoyance made worse by the fact that she knew Mac's phone was on, that he was just rejecting her calls.

"Sometimes I really hate you!" she snarled at it.

"Technology problems?" a bemused voice asked, coming out of the precinct.

"Something like that", Gus said with a smirk, taking in the tall figure and his overnight bag. "Going somewhere, Don?"

Flack shrugged, "Heard the Windy City was nice this time of year."

"Yeah right", Gus cocked her head, "Commissioner?"

"Sinclair. You have any clue what is going on?"

Gus shrugged. Flack caught the look of concern and dread in her eyes. He stepped down a couple of steps so he wasn't towering over her any more than usual. Flack fought the urge to reach out and touch her face. "Mac will be fine, he probably just has some loose ends up there or something."

Gus set her jaw, "Mac hasn't lived in Chicago for a very long time, you and I both know he has no loose ends up there. Besides Adam filled me in on the latest 333 stuff and the puzzles and what not." "Adam Ross, Adam?" Flack wanted to reel the words back in as soon as they came out of his mouth given the flashing in Gus' eyes.

"I'm sorry, am I not allowed to talk to members of the team anymore? Y'all washed your hands of me since I have been working with SVD?" Gus felt anger flood through her faster than she could keep it in check.

"Whoa, calm down, Gus." Flack gripped her shoulders, she struggled for a moment before sighing heavily.

"I'm sorry, I'm just worried about Mac and..." she didn't finish her sentence, not wanting to pour everything filling her head and heart out on the steps in front of her work.

Flack hooked a finger under her chin, "I'll take care of Mac, you take care of yourself. And maybe don't take any subways today."

"Subways?" Gus asked, squirming out from his touch. Flack grinned, his dimples flashing, "ask the team, Gus."

It would be a good while before she was able to get up to the lab to ask anyone anything. Lieutenant Fields had them compiling all the intelligence they had gathered at the club, the club owners' houses, and a few other sites around town. Things were coming together, and the case was heating up with the missing persons report filed on one of the co-eds who had stopped coming to class after attending a 'private party' at the club.

"White slavery?" Doyle asked, stretching in his chair.

Fields shook her head, "We don't know for sure, none of the regulars that have been questioned will admit to anything more than really liking the club. The owners get nothing but glowing reviews, and other than a clean IRS audit, we can't seem to pin anything on them."

"Well that is just frigging great, we have film on a popular Manhattan club showing nothing but pretty girls coming and going. We got jack shit after how many hours of sitting on our asses when we could have been solving how many cases?" Ramirez slammed his fist on the table hard enough to make it vibrate. Silence filled the room, they all knew he was right.

Fields drew a sharp breath, "Detective Ramirez makes a good point, he could have made it a little quieter though." They all shifted nervously. Fields cleared her throat, "his good point is why we need someone on the inside."

Gus felt her heart drop to her stomach when she realized everyone in the room was looking at her.

* * *

"What?" Gus snapped into her phone as she answered it without looking at the caller id. She didn't really care who was calling her, she just knew that the call had come only three hours after she had shut her eyes after debriefing with Fields and breakfast with Doyle planning for the next club visit. Gus had thought she had a break from all the round the clock phone calls when she took a break from homicide.

"Gus?" Stella asked, her voice full of alarm.

"Stella, what's going on?" she said, shooting out of bed, terrified at the tone of Stella's voice. She quickly reached for clothes scattered around her room.

"Mac's been kidnapped."

Gus was dressed and in the lab in record time. She literally ran into Flack as he was charging up the hallway and stumbled.

"Gus", he said catching her before she could fall.

"What's going on? Where is Mac? How did this happen, Stella couldn't-", she wavered slightly, feeling dizzy.

"Take a breath", Flack ordered, not letting go of her shoulders.

Gus did, nodding. "Thanks", she said finally.

"No problem. We are still working out the detail, but we flew back from Chicago after Mac and Stella put together that the 333 guys was Drew Bedford. We staged a raid of his restaurant, somehow in the cellar, Drew got Mac and took off in an underground tunnel. Everyone is in A/V trying to go through whatever evidence Drew left behind. And I gotta go meet with Drew's brother who just touched down in New York." Flack took a long breath of his own.

"Drew's brother?" Gus felt dumbfounded.

"I'll explain later, just go find Stella", Flack turned to leave, and then turned back. "Sunshine?" Gus also turned around, her heart pounding. "Mac will be fine, I promise."

Gus nodded before heading to A/V.

"Mac's been kidnapped and y'all are listening to blues?" Gus yelped, bursting into the lab. Danny, Adam and Stella all turned to look at her.

"You know this?" Adam asked. Gus nodded, opening her mouth at the same time Danny spurt out, "Train to Nowhere, Savoy Brown."

"Last blues band in the UK", Gus replied looking from face to face, "but what does this have to do with Mac?"

"That", Stella said pointing at the track list Adam had brought up, "number 6."

"6th train?" Danny interjected. Stella nodded before taking off to the lab next door. Gus followed behind the trio, feeling lost and shaky and hating both.

Stella tapped her foot, impatiently waiting for the blueprints from MTA to load. Adam quickly tried to fill Gus in, while Danny went to grab Lindsay and Hawkes.

Gus tried to absorb everything going on around her, when Adam said, "we figure Drew wants one of us dead to make up for losing his brother. One of his family."

"Then why isn't he coming after me alone?" Gus choked out.

"Maybe Drew doesn't know you are related to Mac, you haven't been around as much", Lindsay said from behind them.

"He seems more knowledgeable than that", Hawkes countered.

Stella cut in, drawing their attention to the map of the 6th line, explaining how much further the track extended than what was used, including an abandoned stop.

"So Drew is keeping Mac there?" Lindsay inquired.

"Most likely", Stella answered.

Hawkes studied the plans for a long moment, committing them to memory, "He's methodical, but we might be able to have an advantage on him, if we know where he is but he doesn't know we know."

Gus also surveyed the blueprints, edging toward the door as she did.

Danny sighed, rubbing his neck. "Yeah, but he wants one of us dead no matter what, and I don't know anyone who is going to be able to talk sense into this guy."

Gus' means of escape were suddenly cut off by Flack and an unknown man filling the doorway. "He can", Flack replied to Danny. The man stepped into the room, introducing himself as Jimmy, Drew's brother.

Gus took the moment of confusion and introduction as a chance to slip out the door. She was about to sigh with relief as the elevator doors closed, when Flack's shoe stopped them from closing. He slipped into the car, letting the doors close behind him.

"Going somewhere, sunshine?" Flack asked, glowering at her.

"Fresh air" Gus replied, chewing on her lip.

"Not a lot of fresh air down at the old City Hall station", Flack countered. A look of surprise crossed her face. "I had a nice long chat with Jimmy, plus I heard what Stella was saying before we walked in. So what were you going to do, offer to trade places with Mac, figure Drew would take you in trade? Are you still trying to get yourself killed Gus?" Flack's voice rose as he spoke.

Gus involuntarily cowered in the corner. "I just thought maybe I could-", Gus started, pulling herself up to full height.

Flack put his hands on his hips, not even trying to conceal his anger. "Could what? Be a hero? Doesn't do you a damn bit of good if you are dead. Stop looking for trouble! You seen that headshrinker of yours lately, sunshine, because I think you could use a little bit of talking to."

Gus reared back, stabbing at Flack in the chest. "It is not crazy to want to save my uncle, Flack, and don't talk to me about being a hero, because you don't know how to be anything but! And what the hell do you care if I am around anymore anyways, seems like you have found a perfectly good replacement partner!"

Flack stumbled back, out of the elevator as the doors opened. Gus caught sight of the crowd staring open-mouthed at them, having just exited the other car.

Stella looked from Flack to Gus, waving the others off. "Flack, get your vest and come on. Gus get your ass back on the elevator and head back up to the lab or I will handcuff you to a desk."

Reluctantly, Gus stabbed the button to the 36th floor, knowing better than to mess with Stella in rampage mode.

It felt like an eternity to Gus before she received any word on Mac. Adam was pretty sure she had worn a hole in the floor of the hallway. Lindsay repeated a slew of soothing words, but Gus kept blowing her off. A few members made their way over from Special Vics, marking the first time some of them had even been to the lab. Doyle brought her coffee and food, practically sitting on her in the break room until she ate it. Adam watched over the pair like a hawk.

Doyle smirked, "What's his deal?"

"Who?" Gus asked, drumming her fingers on the table top.

Doyle jerked his chin, "The spazzy one."

"Adam? I don't know, he's high strung a lot."

Doyle looked at her for a long beat. "Hmn. Well, do you want to push back the time line on the club?"

Gus shook her head vehemently, "No, no, I am sure things will be fine."

"Just say the word, and I'll handle Fields. Take care, Gus."

"Thanks, Jimmy", Gus said, waving him off.

When the dust had settled, and Mac had been cleared from his incident debriefing, he found Gus waiting in his office. Fire filled her eyes as she jumped up off his couch.

"What the hell, Mac!" Gus wasn't even sure where to begin.

"Sit down, calm down, and we'll talk", Mac demanded, heading behind his desk and sitting wearily down.

"I'm sorry, are you alright?" Gus asked, after collecting herself.

"Just the past catching up to me, I suppose. The past has a way of doing that, you know, Augusta." Mac gave her a long look.

"Please do not turn your kidnapping into a life lesson for me, Uncle Mac", Gus pleaded.

She sat back and took in the twisted story from her uncle's youth.

"Drew is one sick puppy. Poor Stella, can't catch a break on men, can she?" Gus said wryly.

Mac gave her the smallest of grins, "It would appear that way."

Gus walked over and leaned to hug him as he sat in his desk chair. "I'm glad you're okay, Mac, and I'm sorry I didn't know about things sooner."

Mac patted her shoulder briefly. "There was nothing you could have done anyways. Now what about you, I hear you are in the middle of an interesting case."

"You have eyes and ears everywhere, don't you?"

"When it comes to you, Gussie, would you expect anything else?"

* * *

**Chapter 39: Marianne**

Gus nervously yanked down on the hem of her very short, and very glittery silver tank dress. She felt like a walking disco ball and was praying that she didn't run into any midgets less they see more of her than even her gynecologist saw. Thank god she was able to slip out of the precinct wearing a tench coat, otherwise she never would have heard the end of it from the guys. Unfortunately, she had to leave the protective covering of the coat in the car and was now tottering up the street in what could only be described as 'hooker me heels' and was praying she didn't fall flat on her almost exposed ass.

"This isn't going to work", she groaned, surveying the line snaking around the club behind the velvet ropes that were headed up by a very nasty looking, and apparently very discriminating bouncer.

"We'll be fine, just remember the cover story", Doyle said, leading her by her elbow.

Gus sniffed, "I've got the cover story, I just don't see how anyone is going to buy that I am am still a co-ed, for Christ's sake."

"You've seen these girls, they've done a lot of hard living in a short amount of time", Doyle countered.

"Are you saying I look like I've done a lot of hard living?" Gus shot back.

Jimmy Doyle looked stunned for a moment and then shook his head, "I've been married far too long to fall for anything like that."

Gus sighed with relief once they were past the bouncer, who waved them in after leering at Gus and taking the money Doyle slipped deftly into his giant paw. The club was packed, on multiple themed levels and the lighting was such that you couldn't tell anyone's age very accurately. Gus felt this was good for her and very bad for potential victims.

She was perched on a bar stool when a sleazy looking man in a long leather coat sidled up next to her. Doyle had been running interference all night on the college boys and Wall Street types that had come her way, but he let this man get very close with no warning. Gus assumed this had to be a player.

"May I buy you a drink?" the olive skinned man asked, leaning in close so Gus could hear him over the music.

She took note of his accent, trying to place it, while taking in every detail about his face. "I already have one", she replied, gesturing at her cranberry and soda.

"Perhaps, some champagne in the lounge. Lovely drink for a lovely girl", the man continued, gently stroking her forearm.

Gus suppressed a shudder, this man had evil oozing from every pore. "But I don't even know your name", she twittered, twisting a lock of hair around her finger.

"You may call me Marco, and what may I call you?" he prodded, looking around the room in a practiced manner.

Gus barely caught the hand signal he gave to anther man standing near a railing above them, she was praying Doyle had caught it as well. "I'm Savannah", Gus answered, extending her hand.

"Ah, Savannah, beautiful place, beautiful name, beautiful woman. So, are you visiting the city?" he asked, shaking her hand and then pulling her to her feet.

"No, I'm a student." Gus didn't give him anything more, wanting to see where he was going.

"A student, I see, and what do you study?" Marco pressed on, leading her up a set of stairs.

Gus tried to keep her story on script, while not falling in her tall heels, "Um, I haven't really decided yet, but I need to soon, or my parents will stop paying tuition and then I will have to move home to Alabama and I really don't want to do that, I hate it there." Was it wishful thinking or had she seen a predatory gleam in Marco's eyes?

She followed him up the stairs, to a cushy area filled with couches and loungers and curtained VIP areas, hoping Doyle had seen which way they had gone. Her heart both dropped and skipped a beat as Marco continued through the lounge to a hallway manned by another bouncer. Marco nodded at the bouncer, who barely even glanced in their direction. Gus knew there was no way Doyle was getting past that hunk of flesh. She gulped, and asked, "Where are we going?"

"Just to a special place, you see the owner of this club is my cousin and he has a place especially for the most beautiful girls", Marco explained, leading her down the hallway and through heavy velvet curtains.

Gus took a deep breath as the curtains parted, not knowing what to expect on the other side. She hoped this case went better than her last undercover episode, and wondered why she kept getting the prostitution cases.

The room was spacious enough, but windowless. Lit by hundreds of candles. A bar lined one wall, a wall of what appeared to be platform beds lined the other chaises and stools in the center. Gus could barely make out three doorways in the black paint of the back wall. Marco nodded to the bartender, who in turn gestured to a scantily clad server. The server quickly brought over champagne in a bucket. "Thank you, Kara", Marco said, grinning a wide smile at the server.

Gus sighed in relief that the champagne was still sealed, lessening the chances of it being drugged. She accepted the glass that Marco offered her, and sat on a lounger as he gestured for her to.

"So, undecided Savannah, which learning institution do you go to?"

"Chelsea", Gus answered quickly.

"Ah, yes, the Chelsea is very expensive, but very nice. I know lots of girls who...", Marco paused, "work for my cousin, who pay for school themselves. No worrying about meddling parents that way."

"As bartenders or something?" Gus queried, widening in her eyes in what she hoped was an innocent way.

"Or something." Marco displayed all of his many white teeth, reminding Gus of a shark.

She took a moment to glance around the room. Girls were laying all over the loungers and beds in a way that Gus could only describe as being displayed. A few looked like they had been experimenting with more than a couple of substances. A well groomed and seemingly wealthy men were scattered around the room speaking softly to the young women, who giggled and preened and flirted in response. Feet slipped from high heels and up legs without a second thought. The energy and tension in the room was palpable, but Gus knew she had to play somewhat dumb.

"Is your cousin hiring, because my job at the library pays jack", Gus giggled, leaning in towards Marco, while trying to not feel acid in her throat.

Marco slipped a finger under her chin and studied her intently. "It depends on what skills you have, how much experience."

"Oh", Gus started in, "I haven't really done much bar tending, but I am a real quick learner."

Marco opened his mouth to reply, but a raven haired beauty came up behind him and ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest.

"Marco, I am bored, and I have the cutest pair of boots on hold at Bergdorf's, I promised the sales clerk I would pick them up tomorrow. I really really want these boots", she whined. The girl slithered between Marco and Gus, placing herself in his lap and pouting.

"And how much are these boots you want so badly, Marianne?"

"1600, but they are Prada!" Marco looked at Marianne for a long beat. Marianne stretched out a long skinny leg and purred,"they would look so gorgeous on me, Marco, boys love girls in boots."

Gus inched out of the way, but not out of earshot.

"How short are you?" Marco asked.

"Two", Marianne answered.

"If you do not make enough tonight, I will give you the difference. Mr. Jefferies has made a reservation, and you know he tips well if he is treated well", Marco gestured.

"Do I have time before he gets here?"Marianne asked, looking around the room with a predatory gleam.

"Yes, now leave me alone, so I can talk to pretty Savannah here."

"Savannah, huh?" Marianne asked, taking stock of Gus for the first time. She looked her up and down, appraisingly. "Some men really do love that peaches and cream thing", Marianne said finally, before flouncing toward a man in a five thousand dollar suit.

"So what do you think?" Marco asked, looking Gus square on.

"$1600 is a lot of boots where I come from", she laughed.

"Oh, my cousin, he will like you."

"Does that mean you can get me an interview?" Gus gushed, hoping to sound sufficiently desperate.

Marco nodded, "Yes, but not tonight, tonight he is a very busy man. Come back on Monday, that is slow night."

"Oh, okay, I can come after my class", Gus replied, starting to rise.

Marco latched on to her wrist. "What is your hurry, you can stay and enjoy champagne with Marco, can't you, even if I can't give you a job, I can put in a very good word."

Gus pushed down the urge to twist his arm behind his back. "Sorry, I just thought you may be busy as well."

"Never too busy for drink with beautiful woman", Marco said, patting the empty space beside him.

Gus hid a grimace as she sank back down. Petty flirting and a little too much champagne later, Gus was thankful for a scuffle in one of the beds a while later. Marco rushed over to see what was the problem.

"Yeah, well she is just a dirty whore", the man yelled, his face red and veined.

"Please, sir, keep it down, you are upsetting the other guests", Marco said through clenched teeth. He gestured at the bartender again, and Gus found herself being led from the room.

"Please, miss, I think it is time for you to leave."

"But I didn't-" Gus protested.

"It is not you, miss, we just wouldn't want you to be injured by someone who has been over served. Here is Mr. Alazemi's card, thank you for coming."

Gus felt herself being unceremonious pushed into the outer lounge area. She struggled to keep on her feet, more than a little relieved to see Jimmy Doyle sitting at the bar, chewing on a stir stick. She walked passed, catching his eye, heading for the stairs and exit.

Gus was around the corner, and freezing by the time Doyle caught up with her.

"You can move fast in those things", he remarked, slipping his jacket over her shoulders.

"When I am not falling on my ass that is", Gus joked back, looking around to make sure no one had followed them out of the club.

"So how did it go?" he asked.

"The guy was a total creeper, Jimmy, but it is not really a well hidden business. I just have to hope the girls are willing." Gus still shivered, despite the extra layer.

"Well, let's get back to the station and get the report written up. He didn't like touch you or anything?" Doyle studied her carefully.

"He was a little handsy, but not too inappropriate. How about you, did you raise any suspicion?"

Doyle shook his head, "luckily they had the game on, so I just tipped really well. I sort of felt like a creeper myself in there, everyone seemed so young."

"Which is why I was amazed Marco even picked me up", Gus replied.

"Oh come off it, Gus, you don't look any older than the co-eds."

"Thanks Doyle, you just made my week", Gus grinned, sliding into the car.

The hour was late enough that the pit was practically empty. Gus and Doyle steamrolled through their reporting, both eager to put the night behind them.

When his phone buzzed for what seemed like the hundredth time, Gus said looked at him pointedly, "Jimmy, I can finish the report on my own, get out of here."

"Are you sure?"

"Used to do all the paperwork with Flack", she replied offhandedly.

"So that's why he liked being partnered with you so much."

"Oh yeah, I am sure it was just that and not the fact that we were sleeping together." The words came out of Gus' mouth without her meaning for them to. Doyle looked more than a little uncomfortable. "Er, sorry, inappropriate", Gus stammered.

"Nah, it's fine, I mean, everyone knows you two were more than just partners."

Gus raised her eyebrows, "Yeah, well I suppose they do."

"Look, I'm going to head, Penny is actually giving me a few minutes of her precious time to talk so..." Doyle trailed off.

"Good for you, Jimmy, I hope you too can work things out."

"Me too, goodnight Broussard, take it easy in those heels."

"I plan on changing before I leave, thank you very much. See you later, Doyle", Gus waved him off and turned back to the paperwork.

* * *

Gus hustled down to the women's locker room, praying no one saw her. She groaned as she heard a voice behind her.

"Thought you said you were working a case tonight", Flack said, his voice full of something Gus couldn't put her finger on.

"I was, and now I am changing my clothes and going home", Gus shot back, bitterness filling her voice, her palm on the locker room door. She stopped, not liking the continued tension between them. Flack had been short with her most of the week, after checking in with her to see how she was doing post Mac's latest debacle. "I'm sorry, Flack, I'm tired", she apologized, turning and leaning against the door.

"It is late", Flack replied, shifting his weight as he stood before her.

"Yeah, it is, what are you doing here so late?" Gus said, looking at the clock above his head.

"Got called out to a scene at a cigar bar. Guy got half his face blown off. Lindsay and Stella are up in the lab processing stuff now. I'm just waiting."

"Smoking does kill", Gus joked, but stopped, taking in Flack's somber expression. She didn't say anything, just cocked her head to the side and hoped he would open up.

"Jimmy is a good guy", Flack said finally.

This was not what Gus had expected, and not sure what to make of it, she countered with, "he said the same about you."

Flack nodded before pressing on. "He and Penny still separated?"

Gus drew in a deep breath, not liking where this was going."Seems that way, not by his choice as far as I can tell though."

Flack made a strangled noise, his jaw set, "Yeah right."

"Flack, don't start, please", Gus said, slumping down on the bench outside the locker room.

Flack waved his hand in front of her."What, look at you! You are barely wearing clothes, he's a hot blooded guy and you two are having to spend a lot of time together."

"And he is married." Gus felt compelled to bring this fact up, while she rushed to sort through the emotions flooding her.

Flack shot back, "You just said he is still separated. And so was Matthews."

Gus settled on anger. "That was different and this is a job, my job and Jimmy's job. You expect me to dress like a nun when trying to break up a prostitution ring? What does it matter what I am wearing anyway?"

"I know it is your job, but even if you are in Special Vics I still think of you as my partner and I just..." Flack trailed off, leaning back and looking at the ceiling for answers.

Gus stood up, a hand promptly placed on her hip."Flack, we can't keep doing this, maybe I should put in for a full-time transfer."

Flack's head shot back as he stared her down, "is that what you want?"

Gus shook hers, "No, I don't think so, I like working homicides better, it is easier when the vic's are dead. I know that sounds cruel, but its the truth. I just can't keep dealing with you everyday, with you questioning every male you see me within fifty feet of, with the team walking on eggshells, and with Angell..." Gus trailed off, stepping back towards the locker room.

"What about Angell?" Flack asked, opening a door he didn't know if he should. Gus looked into his blue eyes for a long beat, not wanting to expound on her own jealousies.

She reached behind her for the handle to the locker room door and opened it. "I'm going to change and then I'm gonna go home", she said finally, about to step back through the doorway,"I need to get some sleep."

Flack nodded slowly, "you wanna lift?"

Gus thought about it for a second before frowning slightly, "nah, I'll just get a cab."

* * *

**Chapter 40: Catch Up**

Gus sighed as her phone range and the precinct's exchanged showed up on the caller id. She closed the menu, left a couple of crumpled bills to cover her drink and hoped she might actually get a chance to eat that day. "Broussard," she answered wearily.

"Something really bad happened." It was not Lindsay's words that caused Gus' heart to drop, working for the NYPD meant bad things happened everyday, but her distraught tone.

"Linds, what's going on?" Gus wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, the latest fiasco with Mac had been more than enough for her. Plus, she was working out the details on her current case and trying to sort out her feelings for Don.

"It's Danny." Lindsay said these words with such finality in her voice, that Gus quickened her step towards the precinct, all thoughts of a relaxing day off quickly vanishing her mind.

"What happened? Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Lindsay's voice cracked, Gus could clearly hear the tears in them.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Gus felt agitated at having to pull teeth. "Wait, never mind, I'll be there in less than 10."

"Hey, Gus, where's the fire?" Flack called out to her as she brushed passed him in the pit as he was slipping on his coat to leave.

"Lindsay called and I need to..." Gus tried to move around him, but his frame blocked her path.

"I didn't think you needed the lab on your case," Flack replied, eyebrows raised.

"It's not about my case, it's about Danny." Gus said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, about that." His tone said a lot more than his words. Gus was about to press him for more information, but he moved in towards her, his voice lowered. "I was just hoping we could talk, you haven't returned my calls."

"It's been a busy few weeks Flack, and I don't think we have anything to talk about." Gus tried to keep her voice equally low, and looked around surreptitiously. Flack moved in closer, reaching out for her, but withdrawing at the last second.

"I think we do."

"Fine, whatever, but right now, I am going to see my friend and you can wait."

"Okay, but I 'm calling you when I get done clearing this up with Messer."

Gus raised an eyebrow at him in question, but turned toward the elevator to get the scoop from Lindsay.

Gus caught sight of Lindsay busy in one of the labs, but could see the tears threatening to fall from her friend's eyes on to the evidence she was processing. "You don't want to compromise any evidence there Linds," Gus joked as she entered.

Lindsay jumped, "God, you sound like Mac. Of course we are getting reevaluated, so you are probably right."

Gus made a face. "I'll let that comment about sounding like Mac slide because I want to know what the hell is going on."

"Just let me finish this", Lindsay replied, making a final notation on a report before closing it. Gus groaned, but didn't press her. She figured Danny had to be generally okay otherwise Flack would have said something downstairs, but was guessing something must have happened between him and Lindsay. Gus wasn't really looking forward to playing relationship counselor at the moment, feeling like she had nothing useful to add given her own sad state of affairs. "Do you want to grab a coffee?" Lindsay asked after sliding out of her lab coat.

"Does the Pope wear a dress?"Gus mumbled.

Lindsay cocked her head at the other woman, "what?"

"Nothing, let's go", Gus said, leading the way.

"Oh, I am sorry, Lindsay, I had no idea," Gus murmured after Lindsay told her about Ruben's death while under Danny's care and his withdrawal from the world.

"I know, but he totally brushed me off when I tried to talk to him, and I'm not very good at this sort of thing. And now he isn't answering my calls and he didn't show up again for work today. I keep covering for him but I am not sure Mac believes me. Plus, I never know what to even say to Danny when I do talk to him. I worry that he might be reconsidering...everything."

Gus patted her on the arm. "There is nothing to say, Lindsay. Did you tell Danny any of this?"

Lindsay cracked a small smile, "Now you really sound like Mac, he told me the same thing."

Gus rolled her eyes. "Just what I love to hear."

"You aren't supposed to be at work are you?" Lindsay asked suddenly, looking worried.

Gus shook her head, "Nope, couple of days off after going undercover, brief tomorrow before going back in again this weekend."

"Undercover?" Lindsay asked, "what have I missed?"

Gus quipped, "apparently about as much as I have," before briefing Lindsay on the prostitution ring running out of the nightclub.

"So you have to try to get them to get you to be a hooker?" Lindsay squeaked last words loud enough to cause others on the street to stare at them.

"Remember the undercover part?" Gus seethed.

"Sorry," Lindsay took a gulp of her coffee and then leaned in, "what's it like working Special Victims?"

"I'll tell you the same thing I told Flack, I like the DBs better, they don't talk back."

"So you are still talking to him?" Lindsay fished.

"I suppose you could say that", Gus answered, not really sure what was going on with Don. Lost in thought, Gus didn't catch that Lindsay was talking until the other woman leaned across the table and waved her hand in front of her face, "Earth to Gus." "Sorry, what?"

"I was asking if Jimmy Doyle was as nice of a guy as I heard he was."

"Why does everyone seem to care how nice a guy Jimmy Doyle is?" Gus huffed. Lindsay looked at her crestfallen. "Sorry, I didn't mean anything, Linds, he is nice, too nice for a cop if you ask me."

"Nice isn't such a bad thing, Gus."

"Married is," Gus shot back, but Lindsay was cut off by her phone ringing before she could reply. Gus cocked her head to the side as she listened to Lindsay's half of the conversation. "Danny?" Lindsay nodded, "yeah, seems he finally wants to talk."

"Do you want me to walk back with you?" Gus asked, laying a hand on Lindsay's arm.

Lindsay shook her head, "No, I'm okay."

"Call me if you need anything."

"I will," Lindsay promised, giving Gus a quick hug.

* * *

Gus quickly discovered how much slower things moved in divisions other than homicide, especially when building an intricate undercover case. She was used to trying desperately to solve a crime in the first 48 hours after it happened, running high on adrenaline and bad coffee, in hoped of putting the bad guy away. Instead, she was forced into weeks of surveillance, briefings, intelligence gathering, analysis, and the occasionally short stint in the club wearing something as a dress she would normally wear as a shirt. The team was great to work with though and they all appreciated having her assistance, even if they did have to constantly reign her in and tell her to calm down. Doyle threatened more than once to cut off her coffee supply, but luckily never did.

The case was complicated enough to step on a few toes on both Vice and the Feds, but they were able to leave the Brass to fight those battles. Despite having been welcomed by the guys on the team and the about to go in to labor at any second Fields, Gus still felt isolated from her homicide and Crime Lab family. She felt even more of an outsider being forced to watch the Suspect X case unfold on television like any old member of John Q. Public. Maybe she did have a little bit more insight, but not a lot. The isolation and separation was almost enough for her to return one of Don's phone calls, but even those seem to have tapered off somewhat. Gus instead chose to call her uncle and convince him it had been too long since he had actually used his state of the art kitchen in his condo.

"So you are calling to invite yourself over for dinner, Gussie?" Mac asked with a straight face.

"You want to see me or not, Uncle Mac? I'm tired of take out."

"You do know how to cook, Gus, I know you do."

"Fine, fine, you can come over here then, I'll make a big pot of spicy nutria gumbo," Gus teased, knowing Mac had never quite acquired as taste for the don't ask, don't tell qualities of South Louisiana cooking.

"I'll see you at 7, Gus, though Stella will be joining us, she has been staying here since her apartment fire."

Gus wasn't barely able to squeeze out a squeak of shock, feeling further and further left behind.

Gus and Stella were deep into the bottle of red wine she had brought, while Mac finished up cooking dinner while catching Gus up on all the exploits of the team and the Suspect X case. He tried to not notice the glare in her eyes as he described Flack and Angell going undercover as a parks worker and a Marilyn Monroe wannabe. He didn't want to push, despite the fact that he knew his niece could use a good pushing to get out of her head and actually admit that she was still in love with her possibly former partner. But Mac didn't want to go there, he had enough trouble dealing with Lindsay and Danny, not to mention the dance going on between Kendall and Adam. Besides, he had witnessed time and time again how bad work relationships could go.

"Sounds like I've been missing out on a boatload of fun." Gus drawled as she emptied her glass.

"Special Victim's not exciting enough for you, Gus? Figured you would enjoy the break," Stella asked after briefing Gus on her hunt for a new apartment and the reason for needing one.

"Exciting in a different way, it is difficult having to interact with people who are alive." Gus shrugged, feeling more than a little depressed.

"Says the former psychologist," Mac chided.

"Yeah well..." Gus caught a look between Stella and Mac. "What?"

"Are you going to ask her or not Mac?" Stella asked pointedly.

"Ask me about what?" Gus prayed it had nothing to do with Don or her personal life.

"We're working a case. I think, no I know, it is a serial killer, but I can't seem to get the time or resources to spend on it and 1PP doesn't want to start a public panic because we are pretty sure the killer is a cab driver." Mac rubbed a hand over his face and Gus realized how worn her uncle looked.

"Jesus, Uncle Mac! Is there anything I can do?"

Mac looked at Gus for a long moment, studying her carefully not sure if she could handle any more on her plate. "Mac," Stella whispered.

"Do you have any time to look over the file, see what you think?" His tone was hesitant.

"I'm not an official profiler, Mac, you know that, but yeah, I can have a look. This case has a lot of hurry up and wait. And too many short dresses," Gus said with a grin as Mac slid a plates of food in front of the three of them.

* * *

**Chapter 41: Outside Looking In**

Gus was deep in the files from Mac while waiting on the rest of the Special Vics squad to assemble for the meeting Fields had called. She sighed, shaking her head at what she read. Hairs stood up on her neck. While Gus had been honest with her uncle, she wasn't a profiler, but enough work with some seriously demented individuals had taught her more than a little about the mind of killers. Not to mention she had read everything ever released on the subject of serial killers since the death of her parents. She didn't even hear Jimmy Doyle enter the room until he sat across from her, sliding a coffee in her direction.

"That all new info on the case?" he asked, as her head jerked up.

"No, it's all from Mac Taylor, about the taxi case. He wanted my other professional opinion on it."

Jimmy was an intuitive enough cop to decipher what she was saying. "They calling the feds in, think it is a serial?"

"Mac wouldn't call the Feds in if he had twenty serials he was chasing. I never have understood how a Marine could hate the FBI so much."

"I don't hate them, I just don't like them taking all the glory!" Lieutenant Fields remarked as she entered the room, one hand on her lower back and the other on her enormous belly. She was seemingly seconds away from going into labor, a fact that put the whole squad on edge, loosing leadership while making such a big case paved the way for Major Case or the feds to swoop in and pick it up.

"I wasn't talking about you, Loo, I was talking about my uncle, but it seems to be a common sentiment."

Fields looked at the folders spread around Gus, studying the younger woman carefully. "You need to take some time, help him out? I was calling this meeting to try to ramp up this case, but I understand-"

Gus put up her hand in protest, "No, of course not, Loo, I just was looking over some files while I had some downtime. I am 100% on board with this case. Mac can afford a professional consultation."

Fields raised her eyebrows, "if you say so," she replied as Doyle found the most comfortable chair for her.

The rest of the team assembled and listened to Fields rant about all the other squads that wanted in on their case and how tenuous a hold they had on keeping it. The fact that they had proof that many of the girls being let into the 'special' section of the club were underage was the only reason they were able to keep the case for now. "And in case you hadn't noticed, though I don't see how unless you are blind, I am about to drop this baby at any second. In order to ensure that the vultures don't steal this case from under us, I am naming Doyle as acting Lieutenant as of now. Given what happened with Inspector Gerrard recently, it is important we dot all of our is and cross all of our ts. He's now the man with the plan, so please turn your attention over to him."

Gus cocked her head as Jimmy moved to the head of the table, despite plenty of time together, he hadn't mentioned anything about being named acting Lieutenant, so she had to wonder if he knew about it before now. Judging by his well crafted action plan, she only could assume he had. She tried to listen to him carefully, knowing she was going to be saddled with infiltrating the club, but her eyes kept wandering to the stack of files Mac had given her and her silenced cell phone that kept blinking with calls from Reed.

After finally leaving the conference room many hours later, Gus attempted to find a place to listen to the stream of voice mails from her cousin. The precinct was in an uproar, and it didn't take long for Gus to decipher that Mac had lost his patience with the NYPD regarding the taxi cab killer and had called a press conference revealing the presence of a serial killer in the city. "Way to light it on fire, Uncle Mac," she groaned, watching a replay of the evening news. Gus picked up her cell phone, eager to see what trouble Reed was getting into, given his public questioning of Mac.

"Detective Broussard, hold up," Fields said, wobbling towards her.

"Lieutenant, what's up?" Gus asked, locking her phone again.

"I meant what I said earlier, even before I knew about all this," Fields gestured at the televisions blaring around them. "If you need time, you can take it, Doyle has some other avenues to pursue, you can wait to go back in UC."

Gus looked up at the television and then around the chaos around her. She was torn, being back as part of the Lab team, her family really, was something she yearned for in her heart. But forging her own way with a new team that didn't have the complications and entanglements that she had been dealing with since moving to New York was freeing. Gus felt she had a chance to prove herself as a good cop in her own right with the SV squad, with no one pulling strings or accusing her of unprofessional behavior. She caught sight of Flack in the homicide pit, angrily growling into the phone. He slammed it down with great force, causing Gus' heart to lurch. It dropped into her stomach though, as she saw Detective Angell swoop in and grab his arm to calm him down. It was time to let go of the past and this was her chance to do so.

"Nope, I meant what I said before, I am 100% on board with Special Vics and this case, I want to give it my all. I will go back in tonight, I just have to make a quick phone call and get prettied up. But thank you, Loo, for giving me an out. Thank you even more for giving me this chance."

Fields smiled, "don't thank me, thank Doyle, he's the one who threw your name out in the first place."

Gus looked at her with her head cocked, about to question when Fields clutched her stomach. "Before you get changed, can you call my husband? I'm pretty sure I just went into labor."

Gus' eyes went wide as she reached for Field's cell phone and prayed the woman didn't give birth in the hallway.


	10. Disconnected

**Chapter 42: Disconnected**

"Just don't be stupid, Reed, no story is worth risking everything for." Gus chided her cousin as she adjusted the top of her strapless dress in the surveillance van.

"Like you don't take stupid risks, cuz," Reed shot back, showing the brashness of his youth.

"I am a cop, you are a blogger barely out of school-" her voiced raised and Doyle shot her a look. "Look, I gotta go, and I don't know when I'll be able to talk again, please be careful, sweetie, I need all the family I have left, okay?"

Reed made a noise before ending their call. Gus stabbed the end button her phone and threw it down.

"You sure you want to go in tonight?" Doyle asked, drumming his fingers on a clipboard.

"Yeah, we need to get traction on this case. You and I both know it it was more than a prostitution ring and with Fields out, we need to pin something on them soon."

"Fine, then let's recap. You already have Marco on the hook, his cousin seems to be the one in charge, at least at this club, Shirazi," Doyle pointed to the photograph of the Iranian stuck up in the van.

"Yeah, and he is interested in me, but is not as gullible as Marco, he knows I am not some first year co-ed, but he knows thinks I am desperate for money and to not have to go back to Alabama." Gus made a face, the Yellowhammer state and her having never gotten along.

"You finally have a meeting with him to discuss getting put on the service?"

Gus nodded, "Yep, tonight, baring any interruptions like last time."

"Having known arms dealers show up for an impromptu meeting isn't really an interruption, Gus," Doyle warned, wondering if the detective truly knew what she was getting into.

"No one is just in one thing these days, Doyle, it is all about diversification," Gus smirked.

"Fine, just don't do anything stupid in there, Broussard, especially since you aren't wired."

"I can take care of myself, Lieutenant Doyle," Gus mocked, giving him a small salute, before she exited the van and made her way two blocks down to the club.

* * *

Their work had paid off, the doorman spotted her right away in the line and the next things she knew, she was being whisked up stairs with Marco. "Ah the beautiful Belle, right on time. Cousin Navid will be so happy to see you." He ushered her to the VIP room she had been in so many times before, but this time, he moved aside a bank of velvet drapes, which were concealing a short hallway. He stopped in front of a door, knocking in a pattern.

Gus tried not to flinch at the size of the grizzled man that opened the doorway, scars crisscrossing his face. The man studied Gus carefully, clearly looking for hidden weapons, not that Gus could hide anything in the skintight red dress that was molded to her form. He nodded at the pair, stepping out so they could step in.

The room seemed blindingly light compared to the subdued décor on the other side of the curtains. Navid Shirazi sat at the desk, counting money and making notations in a ledger. A gun sat at his right hand, a tray with white powder on it on his left. A coked out pimp with ties to arms dealers was not what Gus wanted to be dealing with, but she had little choice but to forge ahead. "Sit!" he demanded, causing Gus to jump slightly, but she quickly complied. "Leave us," he growled at Marco, who also complied hastily.

"Savannah, the Southern Belle," Navid remarked with a nod and piercing gaze. Gus didn't like what evil she saw in the man's eyes or the fact that he was looking at her like she was a piece of steak.

"From Mobile, Alabama, sir, home of the original Mardi Gras, most people don't know that, think it is only a New Orleans thing," Gus drawled, batting her eyelashes as she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs.

Navid made another notation, flicking through the stack of bills, "interesting," he said, though he sounded anything but. "How old are you really, Savannah?" he looked at her, his bushy black eyebrows in a deep scowl.

"Sir?"

"I know you are not eighteen, what twenty-two, three? Hard time getting through college, so very far from home?"

Gus nodded, her stomach doing flip flops as she wondered if she was about to blow the whole case by being too old. Though it was nice he had still underestimated her age. "Twenty three, and yes it has been so difficult, my parents don't want me up here with all these Yankees and so I've had to work all these jobs and sometimes I haven't been able to pay my tuition..." Gus trailed off, dropping her eyes in which she hoped was a coquettish way.

"And you are not virgin are you?" Navid continued to scowl at her, though his question made her head snap up as she looked at him frozen with the surety the case was done. He sighed, "never mind, impossible to find many virgins these days. You loose American girls with your short skirts and makeup and pop music. But still a good business. Many men willing to pay much cash for companionship of pretty girl. You know what I mean by companionship, don't you Belle?"

Gus nodded, fighting the urge to punch his windpipe, seeing just how many girls had been moved in and out of the club as companions, several of them ending up on the streets when Navid and his men were done with them.

"Very good, I think you are not as innocent as you look. That is good thing though, I have seen you talk to the girls and my friends here, they like you, you are good listener."

"So I've been told," Gus drawled.

"I think you will do very well, I hope you won't disappoint me, if it works out, I think I have very special work for you. Pays much better than normal rate," Navid paused, counting out a stack of bills and sliding them across the desk toward her. "Here, this is first paycheck."

Gus went to reach for the money, but Navid kept one large finger on it, "but first we must talk terms of employment." Gus pursed her lips, remaining silent, wishing she was wearing a wire.

"First, give up your apartment, you stay with other girls in building down block. Tell school you are taking a semester off, if you good worker, I will pay whole next year tuition, from my own account as a gift. You give me your cell phone, they distract girls too much, mens don't like. Write your parents, tell them you spending time studying abroad. If you agree, then you are hired, if not, you forget you ever met me or..." he trailed off, stroking his gun.

Gus took a deep breath, she was in, this was what they had been working months for, so why did it feel so scary? "Why sugar, you have got yourself a deal!" Gus stood, sticking her hand out towards Navid, who ignored it.

"You want?" he gestured toward the powder next to him.

"Why no thank you, I don't like to get all jittery, stops me from being a good listener."

Navid laughed before taking the line himself, "smart girl, Marco will get you settled." He pushed a button under his desk, causing the bodyguard and Marco to reappear in the doorway.

Gus knew the squad had eyes and ears on her as she and Marco headed to the UC crash pad they had set up in the event that something like this occurred. Gus quickly packed a suitcase, writing a letter to her fake parents at a address that would re-route to NYPD. She hoped she had gotten the code right and sighed when Marco nodded at the letter before sealing the envelope. "Classy girl like you should have a nicer place," Marco said, taking in the worn studio.

"Yeah, well, New York rents are crazy," Gus shrugged, working to suppress her fears. "Is the building by the club nice?"

"Very nice, Navid's brother is big time developer. But what you should really see is his place out in the Hamptons, if the clients really like you, you will get invite out to one of the private parties."

Gus' heart sank at the thought of being moved out of jurisdiction, she hoped the squad had heard Marco and would re-think their decision to not bring the feds in.

Gus quickly learned that Navid was running more than just a first class escort agency. The club was merely one of many fronts. While plenty of new money New Yorkers were serviced at the club, Navid also provided companions to what seemed like every foreign dignitary that passed through town, not to mention anyone else that had the money and connections to afford his services. He had set up a cottage industry providing something he referred to as the 'American Dream' for foreigners visiting the US, who couldn't be bothered with picking up the girl next door on their own.

After being shown her new apartment and meeting her new roommates, one of Navid's 'associates' gave her the run down. Gus couldn't help but gawk at the gorgeous woman standing before her, a beauty that would look more at home at Fashion Week. "We only wear designers, so most of your junk needs to go away. We are fully made up and ready to go at all times, we don't drink too much, because no one likes a sloppy drunk. We stay in the best shape we can, so I suggest you take full use of the gym downstairs. Though plenty of clients like that corn fed look, though I have never figured out why," the woman took in Gus' curves with scorn and rolled her eyes, "but whatever, you've got that Southern thing going for you. You don't have a boyfriend, right?"

Gus shook her head. "Good, it's always better to not have some puppy dog mooning over you to worry about. I'm Cassandra by the way."

"Er, nice to meet you," Gus said, trying to keep up with the woman on impossibly tall heels as she moved about Gus' new bedroom, tossing most of the things from her suitcase to the floor. Just when she thought her old life was complicated, Gus was beginning to realize her new one was much more so.

* * *

"I don't know what to tell you, Detective Flack, I can't reach her, she is undercover, you do know what that means right?" Jimmy Doyle stood his ground, despite Don Flack's form towering over him.

"Don't get smart with me, Doyle, how can you let her go so far undercover that you can't get a message to her? What kind of team are you running over there in Special Vics, does Fields know what you are up to?" Flack was having trouble keeping his emotions in check.

"We have been working this case for months, and I am not going to pull her for this," Doyle said, squaring his shoulders.

Flack clenched his jaw. "You wouldn't let us tell her when her cousin had been taken and nearly killed by a serial killer and now you won't let us tell her that her uncle has been taken hostage. What exactly needs to happen for us to be able to let her know what is happening with her family?"

"Her cousin is fine, your guys collared the taxi cab killer and maybe instead of standing here yelling at me, you should be out looking for Mac Taylor so I don't have to worry about jeopardizing my case."

"You've got a lot of frigging nerve, Doyle, and you better hope nothing happens to Gus or I swear to God-"

Stella came rushing up to the men, "Flack, stand down, Mac just called in, he's on the Jersey turnpike, we gotta go."

* * *

**Chapter 43: Bad Girl**

Gus quickly fell into the dizzying world of being undercover. It wasn't her first time undercover for the Special Vics squad. It was however much bigger than the Upper East Side brothel case, and Gus couldn't help but think maybe they should have called in Major Case and the Feds. She quickly lost track of time, her days and nights swapping themselves as she spent her days entertaining VIPs in the club and days getting her beauty sleep along with being poked and prodded by Navid's people. Time slipped away in the blink of an eye, much like being trapped in a casino and exiting days later. Gus could only track time by the weather, the stifling heat and humidity of summer finally giving way to the crisp air of fall. Whether by luck, the grace of God, or unethical usage psychology training, Gus hadn't had to go to any of the back rooms with an of her 'dates'; and why she was greatly relieved by this, Navid was less than pleased.

"Savannah, you are very pretty girl, very pretty indeed. And as I say, good listener, many men you see two, three, four times but..." Navid trailed off, glowering at her in his office.

Gus gulped, unsure if she was more worried that the hulking bodyguard was or wasn't there. Whoring herself out to foreign dignitaries or creepy Wall Street douches was not in the any game plan that she discussed with Doyle, of course neither was getting killed by a pissed off Iranian.

"I do not make best money on just good listener," Navid gestured for Gus to sit, which she did, trying to steel herself. "But many men ask for you, so you must be doing something right."

Gus tried not to sigh with relief, knowing she wasn't out of the woods and also knowing she had to make sure she had enough to bring to the Grand Jury. "I'm sorry, Navid." She decided to level with the man, above all he was a shrewd business man, even if he traded in mainly illegal entities. "I know you make the most money when your girls provide a full range of services to your clients, I'm not saying I won't, I know that is what you hired me for and why you are providing me housing and clothing and what not, I'm just not there yet. I also understand you are a businessman, so if you want to end our business relationship, I will leave right away." She held her breath, hoping he would take the bait. Time stopped for a moment as Navid debated the offer before him.

"You remind me of one of my wives," he said finally. "She was...charming, men were like moths to flame around her, but she was like rod, refusing to bend no matter how hard they tried." A broad, if menacing grin spread across the man's face.

Gus decided to go with it, "Well, sugar, where do you think they get the term steel magnolia from?"

He let out a laugh, "yes, sometimes, men enjoy the chase, but I think maybe we not teach the girls how to do the chase very well."

Gus shrugged, "Cassandra didn't make that her first suggestion, let's put it that way."

Navid raised his eyebrows with a chuckle, "no I think not. But..." he stroked his beard thoughtfully before continuing, "I think I have better use for you. I think Marco mentioned I have place in Hamptons. During summer, lots of big parties, movie stars all that." A distasteful look crossed his face, but Gus remained stoic. "Now that it is fall, I have very special parties there, very private parties for only my best friends. These friends are very..." he seemed to grapple with the right word, "discriminating, so only certain girls are right for there, but sometimes these girls, no matter how much Cassandra helps them, they don't know how to behave with my very best friends. I think, maybe you could teach them some of your good listening skills, and what do you call them, Southern charms, to be like Savannah the Belle. Do you think you could do that?"

Gus fought down a snort, the irony of an Iranian pimp wanting her to give what amounted to etiquette lessons to hookers. The Sisters of the Sacred Heart would wear out their rosary beads if they had any idea where little Augusta Broussard had ended up. At least it was in the name justice. "Like cotillion classes, you mean?" Gus drawled, adding an extra layer of drawl to her tone.

"I do not know what you mean, but yes, I think so," Navid showed an alarming number of pearly whites in his grin.

"Well, why yes, Mr. Shirazi, I would be honored to teach your girls how to be ladies," to punctuate her words, Gus rose and gave a full debutante dip, giving rare thanks to having been forced to go through that dog and pony show in her youth.

Navid rose with another laugh, "Excellent, I suggest you write a note to your parents, so they will not worry, letting them know you are staying abroad for another semester. I will have your things packed to move out to the island."

Gus did a double take. "Island?"

"Yes, the house, it is on Gardiners Island. But don't worry, we take helicopter, quick ride."

Inwardly Gus groaned, trying to figure out how to code in her letter that she was being relocated to a privately owned island still held by a royal land grant. Like it or not, Doyle was going to have to call in bigger forces.

Gus couldn't help but sigh with relief as Navid slid her letter into her envelope. "You have quite the imagination, Savannah, I could almost see you 'dancing through the Scottish Moors' as you said."

She shrugged, "Daddy always said I was quite the writer." She allowed Marco to help her into her jacket, tensing as he whispered in her ear, "you must be doing very well, Navid only takes certain girls to island." She flashed him what she hoped was a winning grin as she exited into the cold night air with Navid.

"First time in helicopter?" Navid asked Gus, placing his hand far higher than she liked on her thigh as she peered out the window, trying to not groan at how compound like the island seemed. She nodded, even though it was a lie, she wanted as much information as she could get in the near blackness. There was nothing about this situation that suggested success. She only hoped Doyle could figure out what she meant and quickly.

Gus was even more dismayed after landing and getting settled into the compound like mansion. She was ushered to her room, which while spacious and well appointed, was locked from the outside and three massive stories above the ground with an inoperable window. "I hope you will do well here, Savannah, I really do," Navid said before locking her in for what remained of the night. She met what Navid referred to her as her charges the next day and her heart all but stopped. She knew she looked young and that Navid prayed on the youngest of co-eds in the city, but these girls were clearly in their teens, some of them looking barely like they had reached that. She fought to remained poised, even though her first instinct was to impale Navid with a fireplace poker, the only thing approximating a weapon.

Gus quickly surmised that most of the girls were runaways from broken homes and horror stories, and truly believed that Navid was offering them a better life. She forged about her 'job' of trying to make them into ladies,while still trying to infiltrate the upper ranks of Navid's business, even if it did mean dealing with her crawling flesh as she let the man touch her more than she would have ever imagined in her worse nightmare.

"Something happened to you," Navid remarked one night after pinning her against the wall and attempting to slide a hand up her dress while landing sloppy kisses on her neck downwards. The reality was Gus having to fight down her self-defense and police training in order to not lay Navid flat out. She instead froze, trying to not gag. She nodded in reply, afraid she would vomit if she even attempted to speak. "One thing I am known for, I never make my girls do anything they don't want. I am nice guy." He extracted his hand, but still didn't leave enough space for her to move. "Maybe one day, you stop being such a good listener, and tell Navid all about what happen to you. I like to know my girls' stories, take care of things if I can."

The disgusting reality of it was Navid was telling the truth. Despite having heard plenty of horror stories while being on the squad from Fields, Doyle and the rest of the team, Navid had a psychopathic knack for picking girls from bad enough situations that prostituting themselves out to rich foreigners was something they actually wanted. They were all eager, to a fault. Gus wanted desperately to warn them, instead of training them on how to sit, stand, flirt, listen, dress, walk, tease and so on. But that wasn't her job, her job was to get enough on Navid and his crew enough to take him down and hopefully get out in one piece.

* * *

**Chapter 44: Everybody Loves Jill**

Late one night, after what Navid called a Preview Party, she sat with him and a few others in one of the studies, a fire roaring as he settled into an armchair and downed a pricey scotch, not his first of the night. It was the first night she had been invited into one of the 'staff meetings' instead of being locked in her room, and even though that meant a breakthrough in the case, to Gus it felt like she had fallen further down the rabbit hole. "I am glad you could join us, Savannah," he raised his glass toward her and the rest of the staff did the same. She hesitantly raised hers back as well.

"I'm glad I could be here as well, I hope I am helping," she drawled, batting her eyelashes.

"You are like miracle worker, for once we have ladies instead of just whores," one of Navid's assistants, Jamileh said, with a white grin splitting across her gorgeous coco skin. "I think this group will get highest price yet."

"You think they will be ready in time?" Samir, Navid's second in command out here or so it seemed to Gus, inquired.

Navid and Jamileh nodded in unison. "I told you this one was good," Navid said, nodding in Gus direction.

Samir started pacing, looking worried. "Are any of them pure enough for Barin, the past four parties he had rejected every girl we have presented to him, I worry he won't accept any more invitations. He told me he doesn't feel he is getting his investments worth."

Gus tried to keep her breath steady, everything she had feared was being revealed in this little meeting, names of heavy players, the near confirmation that it was more than prostitution and more likely Navid was not just into drugs and weapons trade, but also into human trafficking. She had to figure out when the big party was happening and also get word to Doyle and the rest of the squad. For not the first time, she wished that she was working this case with Flack and his team, he knew her well enough that he would have read between the lines of her letters without much decoding, their connection able to defy the laws of physics. Or at least it had been, before she rejected him and ran away, throwing her happiness in the trash. Gus finally realized everyone was staring at her. "I'm so sorry y'all, I think this champagne got to my head, what were you asking?"

"We have two weeks until the big party, do you think you can get one of the girls ready for Barin by then?"

Gus nodded, praying to whatever deity might actually exist that Doyle would get her out of this.

Gus knew she had to get word to Doyle immediately, but wasn't scheduled to send another letter home until closer to the holidays. She approached Navid the second she could get him alone. "Navid, I hate to ask, but you see, it is my Daddy's birthday soon, his fiftieth, and I know Mama really wanted me to come home for his big party, and I know I can't do that, but do you think I could send him a nice card and maybe a gift?"

"You are very sweet girl, good daughter. Wish my daughter was more like you." Navid said, patting the seat next to him. Gus tried not to gag at the thought that this cretin had children, sitting down next to him and trying to not cringe as he wrapped an arm around her. "What might your father most like for his big 5-0?" Gus sighed with relief, ignoring the panic in her chest as Navid closed in for a kiss.

Good listener that she was, Gus was able to discern that one of the girls, Jillian was, in fact a virgin, despite her mother's boyfriend's best efforts to make that no longer the case. She had run away from her Ohio home, using her meager babysitting funds to get a bus ticket to New York, her dreams of becoming a Rockette outweighing anything approaching common sense. She was fourteen if she was a day, with porcelain skin, glossy raven hair and large almost violet blue eyes. Marco had spotted her at the bus station, scooping her up for Navid as though she was a carnival prize, which in many ways she was. Gus was assigned only Jillian for the next two weeks, in order to ensure that she would meet Barin's exacting expectations.

The two weeks passed quicker than Gus would have liked, not having any idea if her message had reached Doyle and if the squad had any hopes of getting together the resources needed to take down Navid. Before she knew it the night of the party was upon them, a veritable who's who of diplomats and foreign businessmen descending on the island, mostly by helicopter, though a couple came by flashy speedboats as soon as the sun set. Gus wasn't sure what role she was supposed to be playing that night, though she desperately wanted to be the cop getting her collar.

"You look nervous, my belle," Navid remarked, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and kissing her neck.

"Just hope Barin is happy with Jillian. And of course, I want you happy as well" she replied, clenching her jaw and willing her hands to stop shaking.

"I am sure he will be pleased. Maybe once everyone is settled, you can tell me your tale and we can get to know one another even better? That would make me very happy." he traced her jaw with one large finger, his eyes like coal.

Samir came over, a pleased look on his face. "Sorry to interrupt, Navid, but I thought Savannah should hear as well. Barin is quite taken with Jillian and would like to discuss the specifics of spending more time with her."

"To be continued then, sweet Savannah, I must discuss a little business with Barin. Samir, why don't you show her to my private quarters. I will meet you there as soon as I am done here." Navid gave her a knowing look before descending the stairs to the waiting Barin.

Samir offered Gus his arm. "He must be very pleased with you, Savannah, his private quarters are his own domain, very few get to see them." Gus wasn't sure if this was great or horrible news.

She didn't have to wait long to realize it was a bit of both. While Navid's could only be accessed by code through a relatively hidden door, they also afforded sweeping views of the island's coastline. Navid's island butler, who Gus' was certain was also a trained bodyguard, stepped in and brought her a bottle of champagne and a glass. "Please make yourself comfortable, Mr. Shirazi shouldn't be too long."

"Why thank you," Gus giggled, taking the glass from him, "what a gorgeous view," she twittered, peering out into the darkness. The man nodded, disinterested, heading back to his post outside the hidden door. She pretended to sip the champagne, scanning the landscape before her, trying to make anything out in the dark and hoping her prayers and letters would be answered. Finally, she spotted them,off shore on the Connecticut side, too many coast guard and harbor police boats for this time of year and then, toward the New York side, the high circling light of what she hoped was an NYPD helicopter.

Her heart danced until she heard the bodyguard greet Navid as he entered his quarters, when it froze in terror. They were obviously about to storm the island and she was, for all intents and purposes, trapped with their main target in a hidden room. The best she could hope for was to have them caught off guard, surprise being her only real weapon.

"What a gorgeous sight," Navid said, as he swept into the room. Gus could only presume the deal had gone well and judging by his pupils, Navid had decided to celebrate before coming her way.

"I was just saying the same thing to your butler," Gus twittered, gesturing with her champagne glass.

"I was not talking about the view," Navid replied, coming up behind her and pressing himself against her back.

Knowing it wasn't the wisest idea, Gus drained her champagne glass, feeling she needed at least liquid courage to get through this. Naivd quickly refilled it with a leering smile.

"I presume Barin was pleased?" Gus said, taking the glass back from him.

Navid gave a laugh, energized from his party favor. "I would say so, you did excellent, my belle. Barin gave me twice as much as asking for Miss Jillian. She told me to tell you thank you and good bye. She wanted to tell you in person, but Barin wanted to leave right away. It is such a long flight back home from here and he wanted to get out before a storm comes in."

Gus nodded, wanting to check on things outside, but also not wanting to draw Navid to the approaching uninvited guests. "Drink up, it is time to celebrate," he said, pushing the glass toward his lips as he undid his bow tie. Gus took another small drink, not wanting to arise his suspicion, but also wanting to stay in control of her faculties. "After all, it isn't every day, I have an NYPD detective in my quarters."

* * *

**Chapter 45: Glad to be alive**

Gus choked on her champagne, the glass falling from her hand and shattering on the marble tile. Fear and questions filled her eyes as terror invaded the rest of her body. This was the absolute worst case scenario and she didn't have a plan for how to handle it. She scanned the room for anything to use as a weapon, her heart sinking as Navid grabbed her arm, his fingers biting into her flesh.

"I am sure you are wondering how I found out. I never would have but one of my special guests recognized you from a little mishap at the French Embassy a couple of years ago."

"Evie Pierpont," Gus choked out, trying to get in enough air, her head swimming. Navid pulled her along, her vision going blurry as her heels crunched over the broken glass. Her heart swelled as she heard the commotion occurring below them, the SWAT team swarming the mansion, but her hope waned as her consciousness slipped away just as she realized the champagne had been drugged and Navid was currently chaining her to a wall.

She wasn't out long, Navid backhanding her back to reality. "You will stay awake, Savannah, or whatever your name really is."

Gus strained against the restraints encircling her wrists, attached by chains to a tiled wall. The appeared to be in some sort of shower room, far less opulent than the other part of Navid's quarters, she could only hazard a nightmare of a guess as to the room's purpose. Gus' struggles only served to amuse the much larger man standing before her. Her kicks didn't meet their mark, as he danced out of the way, unbuttoning his tux shirt before landing a series of blows to her torso that would have left her in the fetal position if she hadn't been chained upright. Gus could barely make out the sounds of the sweep going on around them, her reflexive cries drowning everything else out as they echoed off the tile before she mercifully passed out again.

Gus came to again, unsure of how much time had passed. Her vision was blurry, but she was immediately aware of the relief in her arms, she had been unchained. She quickly realized Navid was holding her from behind, a knife blade against her throat as a string of Farsi escaped his lips. Gus realized they were not alone, Jimmy Doyle standing in front of a team of heavily armed SWAT officers, guns trained on the pair in the middle of the room.

"Don't make this worse, Shirazi, no one has been seriously hurt before this, we can still make a deal," Doyle's voice was eerily calm, his eyes catching Gus', her silently pleading coming across clear.

"I don't make deals with filthy pigs!" Navid spit at them. "It is a shame, really, sweet belle, I could have given you everything," he whispered in Gus' ear, moving her hair back with the knife. Doyle took this as his opening, lunging toward them with amazing speed, but not fast enough for the formidable Navid. He had the knife back up in a flash, slicing into Gus' flesh before she knew what was happening. Doyle had already knocked him off-kilter though, so the blade missed its intended target of her carotid artery but was still deep enough to cut into her jugular veins, causing blood to pour from the gash. Gus fell to the ground, grasping at her neck, fighting for air, Doyle going down with her, fighting her to put pressure on the wound. Bullets flew through the air, at Navid's escaping form, shattering the tiles behind them as Gus slipped once again into the sweet embrace of the darkness.

* * *

Flack walked home, feeling more confused than he thought he would after finally taking the plunge and kissing Jess. They had been flirting on and off for weeks and there was a definite spark between them. Not to mention she had been more than accommodating with his latest Samantha Flack fiasco.

But he couldn't help but think of Gus as he walked through the chilly night air. They had been engaged, for Christ's sake, he had been ready to spend the rest of his life with one woman, something his family thought would never happen. But she had left him and New York, wounding him more than he would ever admit. He had loved her, maybe still loved her, but life with Gus was too complicated, something he had enough of with his job and his family. Jessica Angell was straightforward, you always knew where you stood with her, there was no second guessing, over analyzing, head shrinking. How many times had Danny warned him about getting involved with someone who at their core was a psychologist, a traumatized psychologist? He deserved to move on, he should move on, Gus seem to have. He almost missed the buzzing of his phone. Pulling it out, Flack sighed when he realized it was an NYPD number and not Sam or Jess.

"Flack," he growled in greeting before hearing Jimmy Doyle's frantic voice on the other end of the line. Before he knew what he was doing, he was hailing a cab to get him to the precinct.

Flack caught Danny outside the 1-2. "Where the hell is Mac?" he asked, panic filling his voice in a way Danny hadn't heard before.

"I dunno, where have you been man? You look like hell."

"He isn't answering his phone and I gotta get, Doyle just called and Gus-" Don broke off.

"Flack, calm down, what the hell is going on?" Danny put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Don tried to explain what little he did know to Danny. None of the team had heard from her in months, only getting terse updates from the Special Vics squad that she was undercover and it was a big case that did not involve homicide. He hadn't really worried about her, knowing she could take care of herself in nearly every circumstance, her stubborn toughness being one of the wedges between them. Not to mention he had been carrying on with Jess. Danny took in enough of what he was saying to check out a lab truck, running lights and sirens the whole way out to Long Island.

Doyle met them at the lobby of the E/R, pacing a hole into the linoleum.

"How could you let her get locked in a room with someone like him?" Flack demanded upon seeing him, his one fist reared back before he knew what he was doing, clutching Doyle's bloody shirt in his other hand.

"Don, don't do it man", Danny interjected pulling Don's arm back.

Jimmy shook his head sadly, "I don't know, things got out of hand, but Gus is a fighter."

Flack stood over the man, not caring that the security guard was now approaching the trio."I know that a hell of a lot better than you do, bud. If she isn't okay, so help me God-"

Danny flashed his badge, which got the man to back down slightly, though he still moved them outside.

"What do you know, Doyle, how bad is it?" Danny asked.

"She lost a lot of blood, I tried to stop it as best I could but he still hit something. They were talking about a transfusion, do either of you know her blood type, we couldn't get in touch with her uncle or HR."

"O negative, universal donor, Red Cross is always circling her like vampires to give," Flack said, a smirk quickly falling flat. "God dammit, Doyle! How could you?" Flack said, punching his frustration into the brick of the building.

"Don, chill out, let's just be glad Gus is alive," Danny protested, hoping his friend could keep it together.

"Lieutenant?" a nurse came out into the parking lot, "we're moving your detective upstairs, we need the bed, there was a pile up on the highway."

"How is she?" Flack and Jimmy asked at the same time. The nurse studied then men carefully, before turning to address Doyle, the man still covered in her blood. "Transfusion did the trick, stats are fine, though she did have a lot of GHB in her system, so she will be out of it for a while, not to mention her extensive contusions and a couple of cracked ribs, but she will be fine. Let us know when her family arrives."

Jimmy sighed with relief, despite busting up a crime syndicate, he wasn't feeling very successful. He looked at Flack and Danny, relief also clear on their faces. "Nurse Baumer, her family is here."

The nurse looked again at the other two men, shaking her head, "whatever, I am not paid enough, I'll show you to her room. Only one of you though." Without hesitation, Flack followed quickly behind.

Gus watched Don his sleeping form slumped in the chair by her bed, she didn't know how long he had been there. Hell, she didn't know how long she had been there. She was about to call for a nurse when he awoke, seemingly startled.

"Hey, how long have you been awake?" he asked, leaning forward.

Gus gave a shrug, "Dunno, not too long."

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I got beat up and cut by a very large and angry Persian pimp", Gus replied wryly, her voice hoarse.

"Gus, how could you do something so dangerous?"

"Like you don't take stupid risks all the time, Don! I knew the risks before I took the job, I knew I was going in there without a gun. And it all worked out."

"All worked out, you were his human punching bag, he sliced your throat, you had to have a blood transfusion," he argued, moving to stand by the edge of the bed.

"But we shut them down. We saved countless girls. How is Jimmy doing by the way?"

Flack looked at her in disbelief, "you are lying here in the hospital and you wanna know how Jimmy is doing?"

"I think he got shot when Navid when down."

"He's fine, they treated him in your ambulance here and he was headed to the debriefing once I got here."

"Good," Gus nodded, wincing at the pain.

Flack studied her, debating how much to confess."I almost punched him out, Messer pulled me away."

"Don!" Gus admonished.

Flack gave her a small grin, "What?"

She pursed her lips, "I told you, you can't keep up with this jealous protective thing."

"Yes, I can."

"You can? Just why do you think that?"

He leaned in, debating kissing her, despite the added complication it would bring. "Because I still-.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave for a while", a nurse said interrupting them, "Miss Broussard needs her rest."

"I was just leaving," Flack said, straightening and giving Gus a small wave before he left the room.

"Your boyfriend is certainly a looker, Miss Broussard", the nurse commented as she came over to check her vitals.

"Don? He's not my...aw hell, I don't know what he is," Gus sighed, feeling like she had been down this road before.

* * *

**Chapter 46: I Can Tell**

Gus half threw her hands up from her bed. "So what haven't I missed and am I going to frigging get out of here before Christmas?"

"Glad to know you are remaining in good spirits, Gussie," Mac said, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, it's just been too damn long and now I have been in not one, not two, but THREE hospitals and-" she tried to sigh, but the pain was still too much even weeks after her attack. Her situation had been complicated by a transfusion reaction resulting in a septic infection, pulmonary edema and pneumonia due to the broken ribs.

"You should be out of here soon, Augusta, though recovery will be much quicker if you take it easy."

"I know, I talked with my Loo yesterday, modified desk duty. Never thought I would be so happy to be on modified desk duty."

Mac studied his niece carefully, she had missed a great deal between being undercover and being the hospital, the least of which was the personal dynamics happening in the lab. "Which Lieutenant?" he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

"Daddino. I am done with the Special Vics squad, at least for now. Doyle can have fun with that without me. I will happily stick to dead vics for the time being. Now are you going to finish catching me up since no one seems to be able to come and visit me?"

"Augusta, be reasonable, you couldn't have visitors for most of the time you have been in the hospital."

"Which has made it all the more wonderful," Gus grumbled. She stopped after seeing Mac's steely expression. She knew she was being childish, but between hearing about Sid's radiation poisoning (where he could actually have visitors), the lab budget cuts (Adam did call her in a panic about that one, though Mac's version was much different), this drama about the stolen flash drive and the thing which she found most distasteful (this Ella related drama); well to say she felt even further away than when she ran away to New Orleans last summer would be the understatement of the century. "Be careful, Uncle Mac, this Ella chick sounds way unbalanced. Coming from a former mental health professional and unbalanced chick!"

Mac cleared his throat, "Yes, well, speaking of which..." He trailed off, Gus raised her eyebrows, but remained silent, knowing Mac would get around to whatever he wanted to say in his own time. "Have you thought about going to speak to Dr. Lyons again, seeing as what you have been through?"

"Is that a question or an eval order?" Gus replied, even though she had already been in contact with good old Lyons, baiting Mac was one of the only forms of entertainment she currently had. He seemed to struggle with a reply. "Stop worrying, Mac, I must be growing up, I already called Lyon and have had a couple of phone sessions and will be in his office as soon as I get out of here."

Mac's relief was palpable. "Good, I'm glad to hear that. Not as glad as I am that you are okay. Now if you and Reed could both stay safe."

Gus tried to give a short laugh, clutching at her ribs as pain moved through, she tried to play it off, even though she knew Mac could see right through her. "Us, how about you? At least we all got being held captive out of our systems!"

They both had to nervously laugh at this, stopping only when a knock came at the door and Lindsay poked her head in. "You certainly sound in better spirits!" she exclaimed, taking in Mac and Gus with a smile on her face.

"Linds!" Gus said, excitement clear in her tone.

"And Messer," Danny added, coming into view as Lindsay pushed the door open, a large bouquet of flowers in his hand.

A wide, genuine grin spread across her face. Mac gave a nod at the couple, knowing the news they had to share. "I'll leave you to friends your own age, Gussie, and hopefully I will be taking you home soon." He kissed her on her forehead and was gone in a flash.

Danny and Lindsay came into the room, Lindsay taking the flowers from Danny and placing them in the vase by Gus' bed. Gus looked at them, the pair seeming to be an odd mixture of happy and nervous. "okay, what is up with you two? I'm fine, out of the woods, not going to break, going home soon supposedly and I have some awesome pain meds. And if Uncle Mac told you to be careful with me, dear Lord, I will have a talking with him-" Gus caught off as Danny and Lindsay shared a long look and both broke out in laughter.

"Same old Gus," Danny quipped.

Lindsay rolled her eyes, "I told you she would know something was up."

"Yes, I lost a lot of blood, not my remarkable powers of observation, so spill." Gus folded back the blankets, moving her legs over the side of the bed, pulling herself to a sitting position.

"Well, you see, it's like this..."Danny started, running his hand through what was left of his hair. Gus noted he had cropped it very short and also wasn't wearing glasses. What else had she missed in the past few months?

"We're pregnant!" Lindsay exclaimed, not able to keep it in. She may have turned down Danny's proposal, but that didn't mean she didn't love the man or the baby growing inside her.

"You and Danny?" Gus squeaked, looking between the two of them, as Danny moved in to Lindsay, wrapping his arms around her. "You, you I can see, I've always known you would have like a million babies, but Messer, a little Messer in this world, isn't that a sign of the apocalypse?" She shook her head, with a smile, dropping gently out of bed and giving them both the biggest hugs she could manage.

"Ha, ha, very funny Broussard, you sound like Flack," Danny remarked.

Gus caught Lindsay elbowing Danny slightly at the mention of Don's name. "What, what is it, is Flack okay?" He had sent flowers and called a few times, but she hadn't had much interaction with him since her first night in the hospital in Long Island.

"Yeah, Donnie boy is just fine," Danny replied, staring daggers at Lindsay.

"Oh, good, because I would just like everyone to stay safe and not do anything stupid for at least the next little bit. In fact, I think that is all I want for Christmas, and to be the hell out of here."

Lindsay squeezed her friend's arm. "Good luck with all of that, Gus."

A nurse appeared in the doorway. "Sorry, folks, stats check time."

"Take care of yourself, BB, we miss you down at the 1-2," Danny said, using her old nickname and giving her a hug and a trademark Messer sly smile.

Lindsay did the same. "If you need anything, let me know."

"Right back at you, sweets, take care y'all and congratulations. I can't wait to spoil your little bundle of terror!"

* * *

**Chapter 47: Tell the boy you're sorry**

"So I was right about Ella, she was cuckoo for coco puffs huh?" Gus asked Mac, settled into the passenger side of his Avalanche as he drove her home after finally being discharged from the hospital

Mac's mouth went into a straight line, "is that your professional diagnosis?"

"Yep," Gus said with a smirk, "I'm just saying I called it, I'm not saying I like that she fixated on you or tried to commit suicide, I'm just saying I knew she had issues. Big, fat issues."

"Yes, thank you for that warning," Mac pulled up in front of Gus' building, putting the police business placard on the dashboard. "Wait a second and I'll-" Mac's point was moot, as Gus was already being helped out of the truck by an overeager Adam as Sheldon grabbed her bags from the backseat.

"Are you okay? How awful was the food? You look tired. I mean you look great, but like you have been in a hospital, which I mean I guess is the case, it's just I've miss you, everyone has missed you-"

"Adam, Adam!" Gus had to nearly shout to get his attention. "Can we move this inside, it is freezing out here? I've missed y'all too."

Adam nodded, half dragging Gus into the building, Sheldon holding the door open and shaking his head. "Welcome home, Gus," he said with a smile.

"Thanks, Shelly," Gus patted his face, happy to be home.

Gus was even happier when they swung open the door to her apartment. Her living room was filled with the lab team, a couple of the homicide detectives, Jimmy Doyle, Lieutenant Fields and her baby. A banner stretched across the length of the room and the entire apartment was filled with the smells of home cooking and the sounds of laughter and love. She was overwhelmed by this outpouring, trying unsuccessfully to hide her tears and Reed came in from behind her giving her a large hug. Gus half yelped, turning to see who it was. "Cuz!" she said, wiping at her eyes.

"You know we could have just gone with matching tattoos instead of scars," Reed teased, though his hands went unconsciously to the angry red scar encircling his throat.

"I'll remember that next time, sugar," Gus said, kissing his cheek, her much smaller scar still covered with gauze though mostly hidden by her hair.

Her head swiveled at the sound of champagne being opened, finding Danny grinning ear to ear and Lindsay admonishing him for dripping all over the hardwood floors.

"It'll clean, darling!" Gus said, happily accepting the glass that was offered to her, the first sip of alcohol she had had in weeks going straight to her head.

She moved about the apartment, catching up with everyone, trying to ignore the tension between Stella and Mac, certain she would get two very different stories from each of them as well as pretending she didn't see Jess and Don looking very comfortable sharing her chair and a half. She supposed it explained his distance while she was in the hospital, but that didn't stop her heart from shattering a little. Parker and Doyle followed her, looking overly concerned and both trying to mark their territory on her.

"Would y'all please stop clucking after me like mother hen's?" Gus whirled to stare at them in the doorway of the small kitchen, her hands placed firmly on her hips. "Doyle, I am going back to homicide, though I know I will be spending plenty of time doing trial prep for you, I got that, I can do both. Daddino wants me back on cold cases, and even though I never thought I would say it, I am looking forward to spending time down in the box room. Parker, I am fine, I swear, I am not going to break, so stop watching me like a hawk! Now get out of my kitchen, both of you." Gus stared them down until they both backed away, relishing the brief bit of silence in her escape, until she heard someone clear their throat from the doorway. She looked up, not sure what to make of his presence.

"You look tired."

Gus gave a wry smile, "you sure know how to make a girl feel special, Flack."

He shook his head slightly, "that isn't what I meant. I just know how overwhelming it can be having everyone all over you, acting like you are going to die any second. Thanks for never doing that by the way, if you hadn't-" Flack broke off, the pair staring at each other, lost in the memories after the bombing when Gus rescued him from the clutches of his mother and sister, who were nursemaiding him to the brink of madness. "I'm glad your home."

"Me too," Gus paused for a moment, her heart and head doing battle. "Look, Don, I just want to let you know how sorry I am. I never meant to-" She cut off as Jessica Angell came up behind his form, her look more lustful than professional.

"I was about to head out, Don, didn't know if you wanted a ride. Glad you are back, Broussard." She looked at Gus, her dark eyes searching for some reaction in the other woman, a territorial gleam coming through loud and clear.

"Yeah, so am I," Gus finally choked out, studying the two of them intently, as her heart shattered.

"See you back in the pit, sunshine," Flack said, either not catching or ignoring what was happening between the female contingency in the kitchen. He gave Gus a kiss on the cheek, and a light squeeze before following after Angell.

Gus wanted to fall to pieces on the tile floor, but her upbringing forced her to be the good hostess. Her apartment was filled with well wishers, and she couldn't hide out in her kitchen forever. She took as deep of a breath as possible, squaring her shoulders and plastering a smile on her face as she returned to the living area. Luckily, no one seemed to notice her absence and they seemed to attribute the pain in her eyes to her injuries, not to her breaking heart. Everyone except Sheldon, that was.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked as people started taking their leave. His chocolate eyes were filled with empathy.

"Talk about what, Shelly?" Gus volleyed back, a smile still plastered on her face until he shook his head and left.

"Thanks for coming," she said, walking Parker, Doyle, Fields and her baby to the door after Sheldon's departure.

Stella left with Adam, still glowering at Mac, who was deep in conversation with Reed. Lecturing the younger man by the pleading look on his face. "Uncle Mac, there is a no cornering family rule in my apartment!" she said, slipping an arm around her cousin's waist. Reed whispered his thanks.

"I am getting too old to keep worrying about you two all the time," Mac said, half teasing.

They rolled their eyes in unison, causing the trio to break into light laughter. "Now don't you have somewhere more exciting to be than my boring soiree?" Gus asked, trying to give Reed an out, which he happily took.

"Yeah, I've got a band to cover, for a freelance gig," Reed said, reaching for his coat.

"Doesn't that sound fun, and safe." Gus shot Mac a warning look.

Mac pursed his lips. "Point taken, Gussie. Have a good time, Reed." He waved the younger man off before turning back to his niece. "I am serious when I say I worry about you."

"I think you have recently proven that I have every right to worry about you too, Uncle Mac!" Gus protested, happy for the interruption of Lindsay and Danny, who were getting a ride with Mac.

Mac gave her a small hug. "Stop by the lab on Monday, when you get settled back in."

"Let me know if you need anything this weekend," Lindsay said as Danny helped her into her coat.

Gus gave her friend a sincere smile. "Thanks for everything, Linds, this place looks more homey than it has in months." It was true, Lindsay had not only cleaned her place from top to bottom, she had reorganized Gus' belongings including getting things out of the storage locker, covering up the holes left from the removal of Don's things. "Isn't it too early to be nesting though?" she said with a grin, genuinely happy for her two friends.

"Not for you, sweetie!" Lindsay replied, drawing her friend into an emotional hug.

"Come on, let's go before the waterworks start," Danny said, only half teasing.

"Call me if you need anything," Lindsay called over her shoulder as Mac and Danny moved to call on the elevator.

Gus maintained her composure until shutting the door to the apartment. Upon turning the deadbolt, she sank to the floor in a heap, letting her hot, lonely tears fall.


	11. Drown

**Chapter 48: Drown**

She spent the weekend wallowing in her apartment. Happy to be out of the hospital, thankful she was alive, perhaps even relieved that Navid Shirazi was dead so he couldn't harm anyone else; that didn't stop her feelings of loneliness however, or keep her heart from aching. While she didn't know anything for sure, she knew from intimate knowledge what that look in Flack's eyes meant when they set on Angell. Of course they were screwing, why wouldn't they be? Two attractive, hot blooded people with a lot in common, it made complete sense. Gus attempted to sort out what part of the coupling was bothering her the most. She had left Flack, not the other way around. She had called off their brief engagement and had left New York. It didn't matter that she had come back from that awful summer in New Orleans knowing that New York was truly her home. Nor did it matter that she still loved Flack. She was the one who had been working so hard to keep her feelings concealed, to ignore them, to put all her effort into them being just friends, rebuking his hesitant advances, transferring over to Special Vics to create distance between them.

After much introspection and more than a couple double neat bourbons, Gus finally was able to put her thumb on her biggest issues with the whole situation Her first concern was Flack and Angell may not just be a temporary friends with benefits situation, though she was fervently hoping for that. Her second issue was that Flack had, for the second time, hooked up with his partner. Gus feared this meant that people would figure this was just his thing, something pathological. Such a conclusion would belittle what she had with him, making it nothing more than habit. And that was something she just couldn't conceal or ignore, now matter how hard she tried.

Gus had all crying out of her system by Sunday night, determined to not let her own stupid relationship mistakes ruin her career. Monday morning, she put on her big girl panties and returned to the homicide pit with her head held high and her shoulders squared, or as much as she could in her still healing state. She was there early enough that she was able to walk into Daddino's office without to many people there to give her grief or inquire about her health and well being.

"Detective Broussard, you've been missed," Daddino said, setting down the paper he was reading as she walked in.

Gus gave the man a small smile, "that's good to hear."

"Your medical report says you are clear for modified duty," he studied her carefully, "do you think you are?"

"I think I will be fine going through a bunch of boxes in the file room, Cap, if that's what you mean."

He looked unsure and also like he wanted to pry, but chose against it. Tony Daddino tried to stay as much out of the personal lives of his squad as he could, office rumors and gossip had no place in good detective work, and he wasn't about to feed it. "We did move some things around while you were gone over to Special Vics and, ya know, recuperating. Your desk is by Parker's now, he also is on modified duty, messed his back up chasing after someone and slipping on some ice yesterday, so he'll be helping you out with the cold cases. I don't know who the hell is going to carry the files, but not my problem."

Gus couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of the rotund Parker chasing after anything that wasn't deep fried. "Should be interesting, but we'll make due, Loo."

"Good to have you back, Broussard, now if you could try to not get injured for a couple of months." With little fanfare, he reached into his top drawer and slid her badge and gun across the desk.

Gus greedily reached for it, holstering the weapon and palming her badge. It was good to be back.

Or it was until she stepped out into the pit and realized that her old desk had been taken over by none other than Detective Jessica Angell, nestled securely against Flack's desk in a perfectly matched pair. It appeared as though the woman was stepping into Gus' old life seamlessly in every way possible. Gus' hand clutched at the pain in her rib-cage reflexively as she attempted to steel herself.

"Yo, Broussard, welcome back!" Thatcher said, coming up behind her. He followed her gaze, lighting upon her old desk, looking back and seeing the dead look in the woman's normally fiery green eyes. "You want me to grab you a coffee or need me to haul any boxes up from Siberia? Cap said you..." the man trailed off, waiting for her to take the bait, willing to have his head bitten off for even offering assistance. Augusta Broussard was famous withing the department for not asking for help, ever, and god help anyone who even tried.

Gus shook herself back to reality, as harsh as it may be. She gave Thatcher what she hoped was at least the semblance of a genuine smile. "Sure, Billy, that would be great about the boxes, how about I grab you a coffee, black and three sugars, right?"

Thatcher tried not to gape. She had called him by his first name, accepted his offer of help without ire and knew how he took his coffee. What the hell had happened to her in Special Vics? "Yeah, that's right. Just give me the file numbers," he replied, shaking his head in shock. This wasn't right at all.

By the time Gus was back with coffee for her, Thatcher and Parker, the boxes were neatly stacked by her new desk, which Flack was now leaning against. Gus closed her eyes, hoping she was hallucinating, not sure how to deal with him, but knowing it was inevitable.

"Morning," she said, moving around him to set the tray of coffees down and shaking off the hot liquid that had run down her hands.

"Morning yourself. How long you been here?" Flack asked, looking down at her with a slight smirk.

"Long enough to get grilled by Daddino and lasso Thatcher into dragging up some boxes for me. Though he is getting coffee out of the deal." Gus gestured, realizing she had sloshed coffee down the front of her coat as well, "and make myself another trip to the dry cleaners, it seems."

"Same old same old, huh?" Flack said, handing her his handkerchief, which she waved off as she draped her coat over her chair.

Gus raised her eyebrows at him, biting back a sarcastic retort. "In some ways more than others," she said finally, pulling out the chair and sitting down carefully. "Grab me that box, will ya, I may as well get started."

Flack moved the top box from the floor to her desk, catching her eyes as he did so. They locked on his, clouding for a second. He reached out, about to tuck her hair behind her ear, something he had done countless times over the past few years, slightly stunned when she whipped her head around and tearing the lid off the file box.

Gus forced her feelings down, catching sight of Angell coming into the pit as Flack reached toward her. "Thanks, Flack," she mumbled, diving into the box in order to avoid him.

"Anytime," he said, shaking his head as he walked back to his desk.

The rest of the pit, including a limping and shuffling Parker filed in, many of the detectives stopping by Gus' new desk to welcome her back, including Lafferty who, much to Gus' great shock, seemed genuinely glad to have her back, dropping a plant on her desk.

"Maybe you ain't half bad for a head shrinker," he said, giving her a gentle punch on the arm.

"Er, thanks, Laff, I think," Gus, said, not sure what to make of his peace offering. He grumbled as he walked away, leaving Parker in a laughing fit.

"I think some people missed you, Princess," Parker said, going through another box of cold files.

"Not everyone," Gus said, making notes on her legal pad, flipping from one file to another on a 1998 homicide of a young boy in Morningside Heights.

Parker snorted, "yeah like who?" Parker reached into his desk drawer pulling out a bottle and shaking out a couple of pills into his meaty palm, "crap, getting old is hell." Gus raised her head, her lips pursed and her eyes flashing as she gestured over her shoulder with her pen, it's cap chewed beyond recognition with her intense concentration."Flack? Princess, you have know idea how much he talked about you or how many times he checked up on you whiles you was under."

Gus kept her eyes locked on Parker, refusing to turn around as she heard Angell's musical laugh at something Flack said. "Not Don, Parker," she said through clenched teeth.

Parker followed her pen, studying Angell as she perched on Flack's desk, her back arched in laughter. "Oh, yeah, that."

"Yeah, that," Gus spat out, throwing her pen down in frustration. "I need more coffee."

* * *

Gus fought the urge to throw the pot of fetid coffee up against the wall of the homicide break room. She should have huffed it up to the lab, but she didn't have the energy to deal with everyone, even though she was sure Mac was waiting on her to stop by. She slammed the pot back on the burner, dumping copious amounts of powder creamer in her cup and angrily attempting to get it to dissolve with her spoon. "frigging fake ass creamer," she growled at the lumps.

"As you might recall, we have half and half in Special Vics," a voice said from the doorway.

Gus' head shot up, recognizing Jimmy Doyle's deep Bronx accent. "Trying to woo me back already, Doyle, I've not even been back four hours."

"You're good, Broussard, what can I say?" he leaned against the door frame, running a hand through his sandy hair.

"So are you, Doyle, but not good enough, I am fine in homicide. I mean look at this," she gestured to her pantsuit, "I enjoy being fully clothed in December."

He crossed his arms over his chest, "fine, fine, homicide wins, but I do have some trial prep for you, you free for lunch?"

"You buying?" Gus quipped. Doyle nodded. "Free as a bird, in that case, let me just go get my coat." Gus led the way back to the pit, stopping to check in with Parker, who was buried in the files overtaking both the desks.

Doyle reached for Gus' coat on the back of her chair, wordlessly helping her put it on. He noticed Flack staring intently at them, the other man's jaw clenching and unclenching as he leaned back in his chair. Gus didn't notice, trying in vain to blot out the coffee stains marring the front of her coat. Nor did she notice the pretty raven haired detective whose name escaped Doyle, Jennifer or Jessica he thought, take in Flack's glare and quickly attempt to draw his attention away toward her direction by leaning over the desks causing almost all the detectives in the pit to stare and start to salivate.

"Damn it, I really liked this coat!" Gus exclaimed exasperated, finally turning around and seeing the heads swiveled in Angell's direction, including Flack who was wiping a pen mark off of Jess' otherwise perfect face. Parker and Doyle were the only men not taking in the other female detective's lithe form. Parker because he was focused on a case file and his doughnut, the one currently dripping jelly onto said case file and Doyle, because he was studying Gus.

Gus expression when from one of exasperation over her stained coat to something that Doyle knew all to well was pure crestfallen heartbreak. Penny had caused that same look on his face time and time again, with the final blow being for Thanksgiving he got served with divorce papers instead of turkey. So he knew that look on Gus' face well, just as he knew her current stoney, empty expression was an meager attempt to not crumble. Doyle moved in between Gus and the tableu occurring behind them. "Hey, Broussard, I know a great quickie cleaners, they'll have that coat as good as new by the time we are done with lunch, no worries."

Gus nodded, finally looking from Flack and Angell's display to Doyle's expression of concern. "Sure, thanks," she said absently. "Parker, you need anything or are you good with your jelly filled?" Parker mumbled an order for a turkey club through his mouthful, adding crumbs to the already smeared files. "So freaking' great to be back," she sighed, following after Jimmy Doyle.

"So there won't be any real movement until the New Year, but the more we have squared away now, the easier it will be then."

Gus was trying desperately to take in all Jimmy Doyle was saying, as she moved a french fry back and forth on the pool of gravy on her plate, her appetite vastly diminished. Her head shot up when she caught his tentative question. "What?" she snapped.

"I'm not saying I think anything happened, Broussard, I'm just saying the defense attorneys will try to paint you as a Mata Hari and the prosecutors are going to play up your victim status, so you have to be ready for that."

Gus squared off in the other side of the booth, meeting his hazel eyes with her own, now flashing the color of an angry sea and she slapped her palm on the table in anger. "Let me make this explicitly clear, Jimmy, despite Shirazi's amorous attempts, nothing happened between him and I. I know where that line is and it was not crossed, end of story."

Doyle laid his hand on top of hers, realizing how close she was to breaking. "I can't pretend to know what it was like in there, Gus. I would like to think I have gotten to know you over the past couple of months and I know you wouldn't have let anything happen with or without this case with someone like Shirazi, but I have to put it out there because the attorneys will. I want to make sure you are strong enough for when they come at you, because they will. Everything in your life can become an opening for them, and you have to be ready for that and I'm not so sure you are."

Gus opened her mouth to argue, but before she could even make a sound, she realized he was right. She wasn't ready for her entire life to be an open book, she wasn't ready to rip open her wounds on the record, she wasn't even ready to face everything that had happened or was happening in the privacy of her own apartment, let alone in open court. She closed her eyes, attempting to swallow down tears, but failing. Doyle removed his hand so she could bury her face in her palms. He moved silently around to the other side of the booth, glad he had picked a corner in a place that was quiet during the day. Despite her instincts to the contrary, she took the comfort and napkin he offered to her without protest.

* * *

**Chapter 49: Rose on Fire**

Gus paused in front of the precinct to give Doyle back his jacket, hers not being ready despite the promises of the elderly Asian woman at the Kwik Kleaners. "You gonna be alright?" he asked, folding the jacket over his crossed arms.

"Yeah, I'm tougher than I look," Gus said, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and making one final wipe at her face.

Doyle shook his head, she was stubborn to a fault. "Not my point, Broussard, but if you ever need to talk, you know how to reach me."

"Thanks, Doyle, and sorry I totally girled out on you back there." Gus chewed on her lip before opening the door and stepping into the bustle of the precinct.

"Seeing as you are a girl, I guess I can let it slide," Doyle said, pushing the button for the elevator.

Gus laughed, turning slightly before heading back to her desk in the pit. "Call me that again and I will hit you, Jimmy Doyle!" He gave a small salute and smile before stepping onto the elevator.

Parker took this in with raised eyebrows. "Where's my sandwich?" he asked as she sat down.

"At the cleaners with my coat," Gus shot back, diving back into her files.

She ignored Parker's whining for a while before finally caving. "I will get you a sandwich from the machines in the lab, okay? I'm going to see if I can get some evidence run again in this Deshaun Myers case anyway. It might take me awhile because I am sure they are backed up and I am sure Mac is going to want to give me the third degree about being careful. You gonna starve before I get back?" Her tone was clipped enough that Parker knew better than to push. He wasn't sure what happened over her lunch with Doyle, but he did know that it wasn't sunshine and roses.

Gus arrived at the lab, almost getting knocked over by an angry Stella, storming into the elevator. "What's up, Stella?" she asked, as the woman brushed passed her in a clear hurry.

"Your uncle is insufferable!" Stella snapped.

Gus was taken aback, she had caught up with Stella the least since her time in the hospital and release, but that didn't mean she cared for her any less. Not to mention that while she knew Mac and his second in command didn't always see eye to eye, she had never her the other woman say a bad thing about him. Gus put her foot in the frame, preventing the elevator door from closing. "I have been aware of that for ages, but, Stella, what's going on?"

The elevator began buzzing in protest. Stella shot Gus a look. "What can I say, you've missed a lot. I've got to go, Angell has something for me."

Gus removed her foot, aware she wasn't going to get anything more out of Stella.

She knocked on Mac's open door since he was staring out the window deep in concentration. He turned slowly in his chair, looking tired until he took in Gus' form and then he managed a slight smile. "Welcome back, Gussie, how's it going?"

"Dusty," Gus replied with a smile, coming forward and taking a seat across his desk, realizing how low her energy was after her breakdown at lunch.

"Are you taking it easy?" he asked with concern.

"Are you?" she shot back, knowing the answer.

They both sighed, giving Gus a small laugh. "I've missed so much, Mac, it sucks, I feel like I've fallen down a rabbit hole or like after Katrina, where time stopped for me but not for anyone else."

Mac nodded, he had felt that way in the dark days after 9/11 and after his tours. "You'll catch up, just don't be hard on yourself, if that's possible."

"I'm working on it. Speaking of which, I don't suppose you will catch me up on what is going on with Stella, she stormed out of her madder than a wet hen!"

Mac raised his eyebrows at her colloquialism, but said nothing. Gus waited for a long moment before realizing Mac wasn't going to give her anything, she would have to pry it out of Stella on her own, which probably wouldn't happen. Especially now that Stella was working on something with Angell. Yet another way the younger, more beautiful and better put together woman had replaced her. Shaking off her sadness, she held up the evidence envelope Mac. "Don't suppose the lab can run this again? No one has even looked at this case since 2000 and I don't think they re-ran the evidence. Poor kid, he was only eleven, files think it was gang related, but I'm not so sure. I know the lab is probably backed up, but I was thinking-"

Mac held his palm up to stop her. "If you can convince someone to run it, feel free. But with all that has been happening with the lab, I don't think I should put in any requests on your behalf. Charges of nepotism is the last thing either of us needs, especially since you will be going to trial on your SVD case and we are still dealing with that missing flash drive mess, budget cuts and everything else."

Gus nodded, rising from her seat and walking toward the door to leave. "Yeah, I hear ya, fine, I'll see what rat I can get to push the lever. See you, Mac, and, um, maybe actually go home and sleep in your own bed tonight, instead of this hideously uncomfortable couch."

"Take care, Augusta and I am glad to see you back."

* * *

It didn't take much convincing to have Adam take the evidence envelopes from her, he seemed to be in a rush to avoid Danny, who was looking at the lab tech menacingly.

"Lord have mercy, what did he do now?" Gus said with a laugh.

"Tried to give me financial advice, this from a guy who spends most of his money on comic books and take out."

"As opposed to motorcycle parts and beer?" Gus teased.

"You wound me, Broussard. So what's it like being back?"

Gus leaned against the table, feeling slightly exhausted. "Weird. It's like when you come home after being away and while it feels really good, you can't help but feel like someone moved your stuff while you were gone."

Danny laughed, "that's because Montana did move all your stuff while you were gone."

"That isn't what I mean, Danny, I mean like when someone comes back after going to college or something, like it isn't really yours anymore but it is. Oh screw it, I don't know what I'm saying."

Danny threw an arm around her, "I know what you mean, BB, I was just giving you a hard time. Look, I'm doing some follow up on this weird ass berry case, but how about you and I catch a beer later and watch the Rangers game at Sully's?"

Gus gave her friend a hug, "that sounds great, but maybe a rain check, I think it's going to take me a couple of weeks to get back in the saddle."

"Anytime, Broussard, and as always you are more than welcome at the Messer Midnight Madness on Christmas Eve."

"I'm sure I'll be working, but thanks, Messer."

Lindsay came up to Danny after Gus headed back out "How is she doing?"

"Not so hot, I think."

* * *

**Chapter 50: Tomorrow Never Knows**

Gus headed back down to the pit, Parker's sandwich in hand, shocked at how late it had gotten. "Sorry this is more like dinner."

"No problem, give me something to actually fill me up since Anne has been cooking nothing but steamed crap. Says we need to be on a health kick so I don't bust myself up worse."

Gus took in the empty doughnut box and two liter soda bottle on his desk. "I can't imagine why she would be doing that, Parker."

"Oh don't you start in on me too!"

Gus put the sandwich in front of him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "It's because she cares about you, Parker, don't mess that up, it is nice to have people give a shit about you, let you know you are irreplaceable."

"Jesus, what happened to you over there in SVD, have you gone all soft on us?" Parker looked at Gus with mock disdain, waiting until she settled back in with her files to whisper, "you do know you are irreplaceable, right, Princess?"

Gus gave him a somewhat sunny smile, "thanks, Parker."

"You do have a home, right, Detective Broussard?" a voice sounded over her shoulder, several hours later.

Gus made a few more notes on her pad before turning, seeing Doyle standing with her coat in its dry cleaning bag. "Did you seriously pick up my dry cleaning?"

Doyle shrugged as he handed her the bag, "felt bad, told you it would be done and it wasn't, first time Ming has ever let me down. Plus, it is snowing out."

"I think Ming might have a thing for you Doyle, she didn't let you down, thanks though."

"No problem. Say, you want to grab some dinner, try to work out some more on the trial prep?" Doyle looked at her earnestly.

Gus looked around at the mostly empty pit, wondering if Doyle had ulterior motives. She caught sight of Flack who was flipping though a file cabinet close by. She could tell by his stature that he was eavesdropping. There eyes met, he must have seen something in her expression, walking up to them.

"You ready to go yet, sunshine or you burning the midnight oil?" Flack asked, giving Doyle a head nod.

"Erm," Gus waffled.

"Unless, you don't need a ride home anymore, it's just I was about to head out. Didn't think you would be pulling late nights being on mod duty." He looked from Gus to Jimmy, his eyes a slate blue.

Gus' heart won out as she debated, noticing Angell was still conspicuously absent. "No, I still need a ride. Sorry, Jimmy, another night, I promise. I just need my beauty sleep. Thanks again for the coat and for lunch." She laid a hand on his forearm, filled with conflicting emotions. "I owe you."

He gave her a wistful grin, "anytime, Broussard, sixth floor, come find me." He returned Flack's nod and headed out of the precinct.

"You really offering me a ride home, Flack or just trying to rescue another damsel in distress?"

Flack gave a small snort. "I have never known you to play the damsel in distress, but thought maybe you needed a little help. I can give you a ride home though, I was really about to leave."

"Yeah, okay then, especially since it is apparently snowing."

"You can take the girl out of the, ouch!" Flack broke off as Gus punched his shoulder while putting on her coat.

Flack pulled up in front of her building, the engine still running, but a miraculous spot right in front. Gus took it as a sign and decided to take a leap. "You want to come up, I can throw something together for dinner."

Gus chewed the inside of her cheek as Flack debated the invitation, many emotions playing across his face. "Gus, I don't know if I should," he replied finally.

"I see," Gus said, reaching for the door handle, even though she didn't want to.

"Sunshine, wait," Flack reached for her.

Gus brushed him off, trying the door handle and angrily shaking it when she found it locked. "No, I get it, I messed up, I lost you. Plus, I am sure Angell is waiting for you somewhere."

"It's not that, it's-"

"Don't even try to tell me you haven't hooked up with her, Don, I am neither blind nor stupid!" Gus swung back to face him, tears glittering in her eyes for the second time that day.

His own eyes clouded as well. "Gus, I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say. Yes, you did leave, and you made it pretty damn clear you wanted nothing to do with me, so yes, I am sort of seeing Jess, and you and I both know that I like to be a one girl kind of guy. I didn't know there was still a chance for us." He ran a hand over his face and into his hair, stopping to massage his neck.

Gus fought the urge to grab that arm and fold herself into him. "And if you had known?" she asked, the tears making hot tracks down her cheeks even as she angrily brushed them away.

"I guess we won't ever know that, will we?" Flack replied, his voice cracking as he unlocked the doors.

The sound seemed to echo in the car as did Gus' sigh. She closed her eyes as her hand closed around the handle. She swallowed, forcing herself to speak, even if she couldn't face him. "I may have run from you, Don, it doesn't mean I stopped loving you." Gus didn't wait for a response, leaping out of the car and rushing into her building, thankful for the first time for the newly added doorman opening the door for her.

Don Flack sat in the car for a long moment, debating the scene that had just unfolded. Everything he said to Gus was true, but he was pretty sure everything she said to him was true as well and that complicated things. But that was the way it had always been with them, complicated. Which was why things with Jess were so refreshing, uncomplicated without being cheap. Plus, they weren't really permanent partners, so that made things professionally easier. He had taken enough of an ass lashing from Daddino after Gus left that he was pretty sure he would be partnered with useless male boots for the rest of his days as a detective. He felt like he was at a crossroads, between the road he knew but was filled with brambles and the road unknown but seemed recently paved. He knew now matter what his choice, someone he cared about was going to get hurt. "Damn it, why couldn't you have told me sooner, Gussie!" he growled, peeling the car away from the curb.

"Evening, Miss Broussard," Eduardo said, tipping his hat at Gus as she attempted to hide her tears as she brushed past him.

"Night, Eduardo," she mumbled, jumping onto the waiting elevator, ready for the solace of her apartment and the bottom of a glass of bourbon.

* * *

**Chapter 51: Son of an Engineer**

Gus slunk into work the next morning, her head pounding as she had drank and cried herself to sleep the night before. Not one of her finer moments and she wasn't sure how to face Flack in the pit.

"You look like crap," Parker said as she rummaged through her desk for ibuprofen.

"Thanks, Parker, can always count on you to cheer me up," Gus growled, her scowl deepening as she saw Parker smiling at her. "What?" she snapped.

"Good to see the old you back, your pure sunshine routine was worrying me a little, Princess."

Gus dry swallowed the pills and made a face before replying. "Glad to oblige you, you want any coffee?"

"Only if it doesn't take you all day to get it," Parker teased.

"One sandwich, you could have gone out for one at anytime, we are one rung up from the rubber gun squad, Parker-" Gus cut off her rant, realizing Daddino had stepped out of his office and was waiting for their attention.

"Okay folks, here it is, the holiday schedule. It is what it is and I don't want to hear any bitching or moaning or complaining. If you can find someone to cover for you, do the paperwork and put it on my desk," Daddino stapled the schedule to the bulletin board before heading back into his office. "Oh, and your holiday gift from 1PP is that thanks to the budget cuts, there is no triple pay for holidays this year, time and half like the olden days." He slammed the door to his office shut as the entire homicide squad started complaining, all except Gus who didn't care about the money, much, and was probably the only person in the NYPD hoping she had been booked for every holiday.

She waited for the crowd around the schedule to die down before heading over to check out the schedule. She slumped back to her desk, sighing as she sat down.

"That bad, right there with you, kid," Parker said, sliding a box of croissants her way.

"Not like you think," Gus said, taking one and tearing off a chunk, "I'm still listed as my normal modified off watch schedule, eight to five, Monday to Friday."

"Wanna trade?"

"Hell, yes, but I have to clear it with Daddino."

Parker was already pulling up the paperwork, "if you are serious, it would be nice to not have Anne pissed at me one Christmas. I'm on overnights week of Christmas and New Year's."

"What about your back?" Gus inquired, realizing she hadn't really asked him about it.

"It hurts like a mug, but medical said it wasn't that bad. Just can't lift anything or anyone heavy, keeping me here instead of out there. I have to say, I haven't minded it that much, and Anne likes knowing I am not getting shot at." Parker shrugged, his hands hunting and pecking on the keyboard.

Gus gave a small laugh as he squinted at the keyboard. "You are something else, Parker, let me handle the paperwork and Daddino and you can have my schedule for the next couple of weeks, okay?"

"You are an angel, Princess."

"Not quite, Parker," Gus sighed, her meaning deeper than Parker would ever guess.

* * *

It was Christmas Eve and Gus was pulling a double shift from 2pm until 6am so Montgomery could celebrate with his newly minted in-laws. Daddino was less than pleased with her picking up extra shifts not being cleared for full duty, but Montgomery had been scheduled for the equivalent of desk sergeant so he couldn't deny them. She was sitting at her desk, deep in piles and boxes, her biggest Christmas wish for a better indexing system and digital archive. She was light years away from a festive mood, despite the lights and tinsel and other cheer decorating the pit. Christmas music was playing and an impromptu party was happening in Daddino's office in his absence. The Lieutenant finally cashing in his chips and taking a family Christmas ski vacation. Gus worked hard to ignore it all, as well as the pair of desks behind her, where Flack and Angell were trading flirtatious barbs.

"You better get in there, Princess, before all the good cookies are gone," Parker said, his mouth covered in crumbs, hooking his thumb toward Daddino's office.

"I'm okay, trying to get through this box," Gus replied, barely even looking up.

"Come on, Broussard, where is your festive spirit?"

"In my other pants, now please remove your crumb laden self from my desk," Gus grumbled. When Parker did not comply, pawing through the piles she had neatly stacked, Gus gave up and went in search of coffee in the lab.

Unlike the rest of the department, the lab was on much more of a ghost crew. Danny and Lindsay were both gone, probably headed out to Mama Messer's fest of fishes and guilt. Hawkes had stopped by Gus' desk earlier before leaving for a cruise that Gus teased him about being the love boat, even Sid had left the duties of the ME's office to some poor plebeian in order to spend more time with his family. Gus could practically hear the echo of shoes against the floor as she headed to the break room and their amazing coffee machine donated by some rich science nerd after the lab blew up. Mac, of course, was there, as was Stella, the two of them in his office huddled over a tablet. The pair were so deep in their concentration they didn't even look up as Gus tapped on the window walking by.

Gus was fiddling with the buttons on the sleek machine, trying to figure out why it wouldn't turn on when Adam came in.

"Oh, hey, Gus, what are you doing up here? I mean, not that you can't be up here, but it's just you are back in homicide and I'm surprised they have you working the holidays and-"

"Merry Christmas, Adam," Gus replied with a genuine laugh. Adam had the innate ability in his constant state of energetic nervousness to lighten her mood. "Any clue why the beast isn't making coffee?"

Adam moved beside her, pushing a sequence of buttons and fiddling with the machine, a furrow forming across his brow as it didn't respond. He stepped back, arms cross across his chest, his curls flopping over his forehead, agitating him further as he pushed them back.

"It's fine, Adam, I can get some motor oil down in the homicide pit. I just needed a break from the Angell and Fl-" she broke off, realizing her candor.

Adam studied her as intently as he had just been studying the coffee machine. "So you know." The statement was said so softly, Gus wasn't sure she heard him correctly until she saw the expression in his eyes.

She nodded, swallowing. "Yeah. Does everyone?" Gus almost didn't want an answer, but she knew Adam would be gently honest.

He shook his head. "I don't think so, I just overheard Danny teasing Flack one day and Flack got all, well how he used to get about you so I put two and two together. I don't think they even know that I know." Adam took in the crestfallen expression on Gus' face and added, "I'm sorry, Gus."

Gus waved it off, not wanting sympathy from anyone. "It's fine, I can't change what I did or how he feels or well, anything really."

Adam shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, but unsure of how to reply. He hated seeing Gus in pain, but he couldn't figure out if it was because he hated seeing any of his friends in pain or if it was because he had been crushing on the pretty detective ever since she had returned from New Orleans but didn't feel he could compete with the great Don Flack. "I'm still sorry, and if you ever want to talk about it..." he trailed off, flushing at her intense gaze.

"I'm done talking about it, what I want to do is forget about it and move on. And coffee, I definitely want coffee," she smacked the machine in frustration, wincing as the metal did not give.

Adam bit back a smile, his eyes suddenly lighting up. "Ask and you shall receive m'lady, I think I know why the beast is not working!" He bolted, moving the trashcan out of the way and crawling behind a table. Seconds later the machine started whirring, grinding the beans Gus had requested as Adam emerged, punching out his fist in victory.

"Adam, you are the best!" She gave a little happy dance, giving Adam a quick hug and peck on the cheek.

He blushed crimson, stating "all I did was plug it in."

"Best Christmas gift ever," Gus replied, pulling the mug out and adding sugar. "Speaking of which did are you on Mac's naughty list, stuck here tonight?"

"No he is not, but you might be," Mac said from the doorway.

Gus almost dropped her mug and Adam jumped a foot in the air. "Hey Mac, Merry Christmas!"

Mac gave a closed lipped smile, shaking his head slightly. "You too, Gussie. You aren't working too hard, are you? Daddino told me about your shift requests."

"I can have nothing private, can I? I am fine, Uncle Mac, I promise. Now tell me how to get back on the nice list." She mopped up the coffee that sloshed over the side of the mug and onto Adam's sneakers.

Mac squared his shoulders before delivering the message. "I am not sure you can, Detective Parker just called me looking for you. Apparently Deputy Inspector Whitford is waiting for you at your desk. I suggest you don't keep her waiting."

Gus blanched. "What did I do now? I swear! I'll get right down. Be nice and let Stella go early, Uncle Mac it is Christmas Eve."

"We all volunteered to be here tonight and tomorrow, Augusta. Now please go see what Whitford wants before she comes up here looking for you." Mac raised his eyebrows at her, preventing further discussion. Gus made a small noise of exasperation before heading back down to the pit. "Adam, don't you have work to do?" he said, noticing Adam's eyes following Gus.

"On it, boss!" Adam replied, jumping to.

* * *

**Chapter 52: Senseless**

Gus arrived back down in the pit, Parker waiting on her at the elevator. "I don't know what the broad wants, she wouldn't tell me. I don't think you are in trouble, kid, but she sure is hot to trot to talk to you and seeing as it is Christmas Eve, I figured it had to be important. Look, I gotta go, Anne is waiting outside for me with the kids, but lemme know if you need anything." Gus waved Parker off, wishing him well and headed out to see what the Deputy Inspector wanted. She caught sight of Angell heading out, and tried not to be happy that Flack was still seated at his desk.

"Deputy Inspector Whitford, so sorry to keep you waiting, I didn't know you would be stopping by," Gus said as she made her way to her desk and saw the woman standing somewhat awkwardly by her desk and the surrounding piles of boxes.

"Call me Gillian, please, Deputy Inspector is a ridiculous mouthful. Are these all case that have gone cold?" Gillian gestured at the stacks and piles.

Gus nodded, "Sadly, yes. But thanks to the advances in the lab, with a little digging and fresh eyes, many of them become active again."

"Ah the advances of science, and tenacious young detectives, I am thankful for both. That tenacity is why I am here, in fact. I was hoping we could speak in private, Detective Broussard."

"Certainly, though I am supposed to be on desk duty for the pit, er, homicide squad, right now, ma'am." Gus shifted nervously, wondering what brass wanted with her now. Hopefully not to put her back in Public Information or something horrible like that again. She thought she had been doing well, keeping her nose down in cold cases and mostly following everyone's orders. Sure her personal life was a sideshow, but her professional one was on track.

Flack, of course, proved to still be her knight in shining armor, coming over to the pair and offering to step in. "I've got it, Detective Broussard, I'm on third shift, switched with Lafferty."

"I am sure your mother loved that," Gus remarked, with a small smile.

"She'll get over it, just likes to complain. I'll see her at Gran's tomorrow anyway, go on." Flack motioned with his chin towards Daddino's now empty office.

"This way then, Deputy...Gillian," Gus said, leading the way.

"You seem to have a good working relationship with the detectives here in homicide," Gillian remarked as they both sat in the chairs facing Daddino's desk. Gus was put at ease by the fact that the other woman did not take the power seat she was entitled to, but almost choked on her commentary.

"Most of the time, I like to think so at least," Gus replied with a nervous laugh.

Gillian responded with a light laugh of her own, trying to put the younger woman's fears to rest. "I am certain you are wondering why I am here. I know you have been reassigned somewhat sporadically based on personnel and other issues."

Gus felt her muscles tighten, waiting to see where she was getting shuffled off to now. She was the first to admit she certainly had jumped around a lot in the department since coming here that fateful fall day in 2005, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it. After narrowly escaping Shirazi, she was more than happy to stay among the cold cases, even if she did have a touch of cabin fever. Gus could only nod in reply, afraid to speak and make matters worse.

"But I've also looked at your file and based on your case closure rate when partnered with Detective Flack and your exchange with the NOPD, homicide is certainly your forte." Gillian crossed recrossed her legs, giving away her trepidation.

Gus also noticed how she was toying with the buttons on her jacket and wondered how comfortable Gillian was with her most recent appointment and the power that came with it. She immediately went into therapist mode, mirroring the woman's body language minus the fidgeting and remaining silent.

"I don't want to take you away from that, but knowing about your time with SVD as well as your academic background, I was wondering if you might be able to consult with me on something. I spoke with Lieutenant Doyle and he informed me you will remain on modified duty through the trial, and I think your preparation would dovetail nicely with the consultation I need."

Gus took this in, only able to make assumptions about what Gillian wanted her to consult on and slightly irked about the information Doyle had shared with the Deputy Inspector about Gus remaining on modified duty but had neglected to let her know. She tried to keep her face blank, "I see, how can I help you?"

"You probably don't know much about me, since you were undercover when I was appointed, so you don't know that I was following along with the Shirazi case long before you came on board with it. Lieutenant Fields and I have been friends for quite some time, both her and I gravely concerned with the increase in human trafficking and sex trade. The mayor knows of this...interest of mine and has sent a few letters my way regarding the disappearance of young girls, younger than even in the case you worked, 15, 16, some as young as 13."

"And missing persons or SVD isn't involved?" Gus asked, pressing the woman gently for more information in an attempt to figure out how she was supposed to be involved.

"These girls, well they have mostly been written off as runaways or are illegals who have fallen through the cracks, but they are still someone's daughters and they still matter, even if NYPD can't open a case officially."

"I agree with you, ma'am, I'm just not sure how I fit in," Gus leaned back in her chair, cocking her head in questioning.

"You have worked two undercover cases for SVD involving prostitution rings, you have a unique knowledge of the inner workings of these kind of operations not to mention the background and training to make suppositions on the mindset of the scum who prey on young girls and trade them like playing cards. I want to know what you know."

Gillian's expression was gravely serious and Gus could only guess that something personal was happening behind the scenes, but she knew better than to question someone who outranked her by leaps and bounds. Gus crossed her arms, "you understand I can only tell you what I observed, and that everything else would be, as you said, supposition? I'm a detective with an advanced psych degree, not a psychic."

Gillian nodded, excepting what the other woman had to say, but also knowing she was a great resource. "I understand, Detective, but I do believe that knowledge is power, and I could use a dose of both. I will be setting up some meetings with you in the new year in between your trial preparations. Now if you will excuse me, I am expected to make an appearance at the Mayor's Christmas dinner. Thank you for your time."

The Deputy Inspector was gone before she could respond, leaving Gus to shake her head in Daddino's office.

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Flack asked when she walked back to her desk.

Gus altered her route, coming to a stop next to Flack's desk. She might not be happy with him and Angell, but he was still a sympathetic ear and a good cop. "I am not entirely sure, but I blame GI Joe and I'm guessing it is going to be 2012 before I am back as an active homicide detective."

Flack stood up, looking at her quizzically. "Sunshine, I am not even going to pretend to know what you are talking about, but you look outta sorts. What's up?"

"I am apparently never going to be rid of this stupid Shirazi case. Not only has Doyle benched me until the freaking trial is over, but now Whitford wants me to be her personal soothsayer on the mind of sex traffickers, as if I have some great knowledge that no one else has, let me just look into my freaking crystal ball and tell you all you want to know." Gus mimed a fortune teller, causing Flack to lose it. They both got caught up in laughter until their eyes met and a spark caught between them. They both stepped back, knowing they were treading on thin ice, Gus quickly moving backwards to her desk, yelping as she ran into a pile of boxes.

* * *

**Chapter 53: Mercyland**

As if he had heard his name six stories above, Jimmy Doyle appeared in the homicide pit, as Gus was trying to sort through the mess created with the pile of tipped over boxes.

"Damn it, I had just finished sorting those!" she exclaimed, frustration overtaking her.

"Having a Merry Christmas, huh, Broussard?" Doyle asked, stepping over an upended box.

"No I am not, Lieutenant and it looks like I won't be having a happy New Year, Mardi Gras or Easter thanks to you either!" Gus squared off with the thoroughly confused Doyle. Flack decided this was a great time to go grab a snack, leaving Doyle to Gus' wrath. The few detectives left in the pit, busied themselves immediately, knowing better than to get between the pair now facing off.

"What are you talking about, Broussard?" Doyle seemed genuinely perplexed.

"I mean getting Brass to put me on poor and helpless duty until your stupid trial is over. I can manage to testify and still be a good cop, you know! The doctors did clear me enough to get both my gun and shield back, so why is it you seem to think I need to be humping a desk for the rest of eternity?" The flare up cost Gus most of her energy much to her chagrin. Despite her ranting, she still tired easily and could predict precipitation with her ribcage. Her bruises may have disappeared and her scar may be fading, but her injuries ran deep, deeper than anything that would show up on medical tests. Eight hours in to her first shift, she was regretting her decision to take on an extra.

Doyle could see her flagging, but didn't push. "You done?" he said finally as she stood, hands on hips, panting slightly. She nodded. "You want to grab some dinner and actually discuss this?"

"Can't, desk sarge duty," she huffed out, moving a stack of files back to their box.

"How about I go across to Ruby's grab us a couple of burgers and come back here and help you with these and you can tell me how I managed to piss yet another woman off without meaning to." There was no question in his tone, but there was sympathy in his eyes.

"Fine," Gus knew better than to keep ranting, "but no mustard on mine." "And thanks, Jimmy," she added after a long pause.

Thankfully no randoms came into the pit and nearly everyone else, including Flack were either called out to a case or off shift by the time Jimmy Doyle returned with two greasy sacks full of food. "Ugh, put those on Parker's desk, he won't notice any more grease," Gus said, dropping an arm full of files on to her desk.

They sat at Parker's desk, tucking into the greasy hamburgers with gusto. "Port of Call, these ain't, but this is pretty good for New York."

Jimmy couldn't hide his amusement. "You do know people come from all over the world just to visit New York, right Gus?"

"Don't get me wrong, I love New York, but food wise, New Orleans has you beat, hands down."

"I'll take your word for it." Doyle seemed more than a little skeptical but Gus didn't have the energy for another argument. "Poor and helpless duty?" Doyle asked as they both finished their burgers.

Gus wiped her mouth, tossing the napkin in the almost overflowing can beside Parker's desk. How the man had not had a heart attack was beyond her. "I'm sorry, I was out of line, seeing as you are technically my superior officer and all. It's just-" she searched for the best word, "frustrating." She moved back to her side of the desks, putting space between them and trying to remain calm. If she was completely honest, she knew she wasn't ready to be back in the field, but she didn't like anyone else knowing her weakness.

Doyle leaned back in Parker's chair, interlacing his hands behind his head, looking completely relaxed. "Look, I know you are a good cop, knew that when Fields first started looking for someone for the case. I know it's got to be frustrating not being able to do what you are good at to the fullest extent, but I am pretty sure you aren't at 100% and I was trying to help you out, really, not keep you, what was it, 'humping a desk for the rest of eternity'. Sorry to keep you from predawn calls in the freezing rain or a hundred residents pissed off at you for knocking on their doors in the middle of the night or chasing some dope down a rat infested alley. Can't find anything better to do with your nights, Broussard?"

Gus leaned to look at the clock hanging on the wall. "Asks the man hanging out in the homicide pit at midnight on Christmas."

"Better than an empty apartment."

Gus felt a twinge in his bitter tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

Doyle waved her off, "no, it's fine, I better get used to it."

"You sure it is over?" Gus looked at him earnestly, her mind flitting to her conversation with Flack in the car the other night and wishing better for Doyle.

He nodded, "divorce decree all but signed, sealed and delivered. She moved out to that artist commune, took up with some shirtless sculptor named Ramon and insists upon being called The Lady Penelope. Thank god we didn't have kids.

Gus made a face, "makes my situation seem not so bad, I think."

"How is that going?" Doyle asked, his eyebrows raised, jutting his chin in the direction of Flack and Angell's desks. He knew enough of the story between their endless stakeouts and precinct rumors.

"Going? It's done gone. He moved on, what did I expect? I just wish it could have been someone outside the frigging department."

"If it gets too much for you, there's always a spot for you in SVD as long as I am in charge."

Gus cocked her head at him, "did I miss something with Fields?"

Doyle couldn't help but smile, "my one Christmas gift, Fields is moving over to DCPI, says she too old to deal with teenagers, a new baby and herding cats. CoD made it official two days ago.

"Congratulations, Doyle, I owe you a drink as soon as we are both off the clock."

"I will take you up on that. I suppose I should check in on my second shift team, seeing as I am supposed to be cracking the whip and all that."

"See you around, Jimmy, and Merry Christmas."


	12. Out of my way (back to you)

**Chapter 54: Out of my way back to you**

Gus made it through Christmas and New Year's, earning bonus points with her co-workers for picking up shifts that she could even if she was loosing them with Daddino and Mac. The holidays were a haze of work and sleep, as she had no energy left over for anything else. She barely even noticed that they were a couple of weeks in to 2009 except for the fact that her schedule had gone back to modified duty and Doyle and the DA kept interrupting her for trial prep.

She finally escaped their repeated questioning over every second she spent on the Shirazi case by hiding in the cold case evidence locker, finding it easier to go through the boxes down there over getting someone to haul them up. Parker was doing all the follow up work in the field on their cases along with a beat cop who had his heart set on a detective shield. Gus often felt like she was nothing more than a file jockey, but at least she had created a system that helped to streamline what seemed like insurmountable 9,000+ unsolved cases. Her sanctuary was invaded one afternoon by none other than Don Flack.

"You got that, sunshine?" he asked as she attempted to maneuver a box from a high shelf.

Gus jumped, sending the box crashing to the floor.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Flack said, rushing over to assist.

"It's fine, didn't hear anyone else come, usually just me and the boxes down here," she nervously pulled at her ponytail, unsure how to act around him.

"Was beginning to forget what you looked like. Parker also may have covered your desk in candy bar wrappers and bakery boxes."

Gus gave a small laugh, "sounds about right. What brings you down here?"

"Was looking for this box," Flack gestured to a string of letters and numbers on a scrap of paper, "but I can't seem to find a damn thing down here and since there isn't a clerk anymore..." he trailed off.

She reached out for the scrap of paper, "VS, huh, you transfer to Doyle's team without telling me?" Gus moved quickly out of the unsolved homicide section and over to special vic's. She scanned the boxes with quick precision. "Here you go VS2001-GPR1512," she tapped the box.

Flack looked at her in amazement, "How did you do that?" He pulled down the box, heading toward one of the long tables set up in the room with Gus following along.

Gus shrugged, "I'm good and as you pointed out, I've spent a lot of time down here. Now you going to tell me what you are doing with a SVD case?"

"Caught a body think it might be connected to the Gramercy Park rapist."

Gus stopped short, "the where rapist?" Her eyes grew wide.

Flack put the box on the table top, signing the sheet on its lid. "Don't freak out on me, Broussard. It was before you ever moved here, couple of years starting in 1999. Some creep preyed on women he followed home from the subway. Seeing as you have a fancy doorman now and you don't take the subway unless someone is with you, I don't think you have anything to worry about. Plus this DB was in the village." He barely even looked at her as he flipped through the box, pulling out the file log.

"Well in that case, I'll just jog home naked!" Gus yelped.

Flack looked up, completely calm, a smirk playing on his face, "you know you can take cabs again, right?"

Gus made a strangled noise before moving over to the box. "So what are you hoping to find now?"

Flack shrugged, "I don't know, I wasn't the one who made the connection, Mac said something about bruising and to get the box, so here I am. Looks like there was a tip line set up back then."

Gus flipped through the box finding the corresponding file, "yep, right here," she held up the file, surprised at how thin it was. Usually tip lines made all the wackos come out, but since no one had been killed until now...Gus stopped short as she flipped through the tip line reports. "Uh, Flack, I think you should see this."

Flack took in the worried expression on Gus' face. "What's up?"

"No big shock, most of the calls are anonymous, but someone was really persistent in catching this guy. Called a bunch of times and always left his name."

"So?"

"His name was Dr. Sheldon Hawkes..." Gus passed the file to him, pointing out the calls in the log.

"Crap, I gotta get this to Mac." Flack sighed, flipping the file shut.

"No, wait, maybe you can check with Sheldon first, see what it is all about..."

Flack shook his head, "that isn't the way it works Gus, and you know it. I've got to go to Mac first and he'll deal with Hawkes." He packed the box back up hastily.

"Fine, but let me know what happens, will you?" Gus looked at him for a long moment. "I miss the team, Don," she said finally, her voice cracking slightly.

"You're the one hiding down here, Gus," he said with a slight shake of his head before replacing the lid the box and carrying it off toward the elevators.

* * *

"I'm so sorry that happened to you, Shel," Gus said, pouring more wine for them both in her apartment a few days later. At least the rapist, had been apprehended, but Gus knew that did little to assuage her friend's guilt and concern.

"At least justice has been done, Colin Clark is locked up as he should be," Sheldon replied, lifting his glass to hers with a clink.

"Too little too late though. Have you spoken to Kara at all, other than telling her to come in and talk to Stella?" Gus asked, raising her eyebrows over her wine glass.

Sheldon shook his head, "no, I haven't, I just can't."

His tone held such finality, that Gus didn't press the issue, despite her wanting to. She leaned back on the sofa, sipping her wine, enjoying having someone from the team back over at her place. "Wish someone would have told me about a rapist before I bought this place, though," she sighed.

"It was before you even moved here, and this is a great place. How else could you have this much space on a cop's salary in Manhattan?"

"Because, dear Doctor Hawkes, if you may recall, I was a psychologist when I bought it, it was a pit, and I had a great chunk of carbon to put down on it," Gus surveyed the room and lifted her wine glass to it.

"So just how many times have you been engaged now?" Sheldon teased.

Gus shot him a look, "Technically twice, purposed to three times, but if you ask me, only one of them really counts, but I still don't seem to have a ring on it." She blew her hair out of her eyes, leaning forward, cupping her chin in her hand.

"And whose fault is that?" Sheldon pressed on.

"Seriously? Are you seriously pressing me on this, Shelly, what, eight months later?" Gus set her wine glass down, facing down her friend.

Sheldon raised his eyebrows back at her. "I think no one has gotten the real story, figured I would ask."

"As Uncle Mac says, follow the evidence," Gus retorted, wrinkling her nose.

"I am pretty sure two certain homicide detectives didn't leave much behind." Sheldon refused to let go, feeling like this was the first time in months that Gus wasn't too fragile to answer the questions everyone had been quietly asking.

"You aren't going to let this go, are you?" His silence was her answer. "Yes, we were happily living together and Don proposed and I accepted, but instead of happily ever after, the lab blew up. I took that as a sign that nothing was going to be forever for me and I ran back to New Orleans, which I was thought for home where I clocked a million hours trying to solve homicides despite too many obstacles to count while drunk off my ass every second I was off the clock until I realized I wasn't any happier there so I can back here only to feel like an outsider. So I took up with Special Vics trying to make myself useful only to almost be killed by a crazy Persian sex trafficker while loosing the love of my life to his new much more awesome partner. Is that what you wanted to know, Sheldon?" Gus drained her wine, pouring another, much bigger glass while Sheldon studied her carefully.

"Yes, I suppose it was. Except, how are you doing now?" He gave her a small smile.

"I'm getting there, I suppose. It will be better when this trial is over and I can get off of modified duty and feel like I am actually worth something again."

Sheldon look at her incredulous, "worth something, Gus, you shut down an international prostitution and human trafficking ring. Sounds pretty useful to me. What is this you mean by Flack and his new partner? Every time I have talked to him, he brings up you, so if anything is happening between him and Jess, I don't think it is anything serious."

"Well then, maybe whatever happened between him and I wasn't that serious either."

"He asked you to marry him. Twice. That isn't something I have been able to do with anyone once." Sheldon drained his own wine. Gus attempted to refill it, pouting as the bottle emptied.

"You should get on that, Shelly," Gus teased, heading to the kitchen for another bottle.

"I will if you promise to quit hiding from the lab and everyone," Sheldon called after her.

* * *

**Chapter 55: Supersonic**

Gus had just arrived back down in the pit from across the way at the district attorney's office, another grueling morning of trial prep had sapped nearly all her energy. She had been tempted to head up to the lab for an espresso, but figured she should check in with Parker first and see how her new system was working out. The pit was full of chaos, a repeat offender being hauled in by two boots who barely had memorized the Miranda warning and didn't have their skull properly cuffed. Gus hugged the wall next to the interrogation rooms as the unruly suspect jumped up on a set of desks. She rolled her eyes as Angell rushed to try to control the situation, almost falling into the interrogation room as the door swung open.

"He's not breathing," Flack's voice was full of terror below her.

Gus turned, seeing the teenager on the ground and Flack over him. Froth emanating from the kid's mouth. She rushed in, pushing up the kid's shirt and starting chest compressions. "What the hell happened, Flack?" she asked between compression, straddling the teen's form and wailing on his chest as he didn't breathe.

"I was just asking him some questions and he just stopped-" Flack broke off, his voice raspy.

Gus had never heard such panic in his voice and her heart swelled for him even as she attempted to restart the kid's heart before her. "Damn, kid, come on! Don, get the portable defibrillator and call a bus, now!" She snapped at him and he sprung to action but the defibrillator wasn't there.

"Crap!" they both swore. Gus was already dripping with sweat as Flack moved her out of the way to continue compressions.

"We need a bus in here, stat," she yelled out into the somewhat contained pit before sliding down the wall, overcome with exhaustion.

"I don't know, I just came over from the DA's and Flack had already started CPR..." Gus trailed off, gulping down the glass of water Mac had given her.

"Well just sit tight, IAB might want to talk to you. Don, are you sure you don't want a union rep?" Mac asked again, before heading in to the body of young Todd Fleming.

"Why does he keep asking that?" Flack said, his jaw clenching and releasing, "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Because they are IAB, Flack, we always have done something wrong. Just watch your back, okay?" Gus gave his arm a squeeze and looked at him with pleading eyes before heading back to her desk, sighing as she took in Angell leaning up against it.

"I am pretty sure Don had nothing to do with this kid's death," the brunette snapped.

"Yeah, Jess, well I am positive he didn't, but that doesn't matter until IAB says he didn't!" Gus ignored Lafferty's cat meow behind them.

"Well as his partner, I'll be sure to tell them he didn't." Angell locked her dark eyes on Gus, who glared back, despite wanting to crumble.

"You do that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a trial to prep for." Gus turned on her heel, making haste toward the elevator, happy for the solace of the sixth floor.

* * *

"Broussard, I thought the DA was done with us for the day," Doyle said as she flounced into the SVD squad.

"Yeah, well half of the pit is now a crime scene and I thought I should remove myself before I made the other half one as well," Gus snapped.

"You wanna take a seat in my office?" Doyle asked, ushering her in, "I'll grab us some coffee."

Gus nodded, happy for the offer. She marched in, settling in one of the chairs facing his desk, pulling her hair out of its bun and twirling it back up again nervously until Doyle returned. When she did, she told him what little she knew of the drama that had unfolded downstairs. She knew Flack and Angell had been hard at work on a case that had involved the mutilated body of a wrestling coach, but she had been up to her eyeballs in cold cases and trial prep, so she hadn't really had more than a passing knowledge.

"So the kid was dead?" Doyle asked.

"Deader than a doornail, Flack is pretty shook up and IAB is sniffing up everyone's skirt," Gus took a long drink of coffee, suppressing a shiver.

"He getting his union rep?"

Gus shrugged, "I hope so, he was trying to say he didn't need one, but hopefully Mac will convince him otherwise."

"Jesus, well fell free to work up here as long as you want to. You need anyone to carry anything up for you?" Doyle started to rise, but Gus waved him off.

"I am fine, Jimmy, I'll see how long the pit is out of commission, but I will take you up on it if it is going to be too long. I guess I should go see if the rat squad needs a statement from me."

"Take care, Gus, we're here if you need us."

The pit was less chaotic, the teen's body had been removed and things were slowly calming down. Crime scene tape still was strewn around, odd as it was to see it inside the precinct. Gus checked in with Daddino, who was bitching about the paperwork he was going to have to fill out and directed her to an IAB officer who took her rather brief statement.

"So you were just walking by?" he asked, making a few notes on his paper.

"Pretty much, walking past, door opened, Detective Flack said he wasn't breathing, saw kid on floor, helped administer CPR. End of story."

"And how long have you known Detective Flack."

"Since fall of 2005, when I first joined the department," Gus replied, wondering where this line of questioning was going to go.

"In that time period, have you ever known Detective Flack to use excessive force on a suspect or behave in an irrational or violent manner?" The IAB detective didn't even both to look up from his script, his chicken scratch filling in the blanks with Gus' responses.

Gus couldn't help but give a short laugh. "Sugar, it is clear to me you haven't even bothered to open his personnel file. He is the one of the most level headed people you will ever meet, and on more than one occasion has stopped others, me included, from caving in the skull of someone who so richly deserved a boot to the head. So, no, I have not known Detective Flack to use excessive force or behave in an irrational or violent manner. Anything else or can I get back to getting actual criminals off the street?"

This got the man's attention, he looked up, his mouth slightly open. "Fine, go, but I hope I am not one day back here questioning people about you."

"Me either," Gus said, standing, "have a lovely day, detective."

* * *

Gus was seething as she left the conference room they had seated the IAB officer in, almost colliding with Angell coming out of an interrogation room.

"Was it you? Did you tell them, did you think it would make any difference to Don or I? Because it won't, all it does is make my word useless and hurt him. Bet you didn't think about that when you had to tattle even though I never said a thing to anyone when the tables were turned. I can't believe you could be such an idiot, I thought you were supposed to be smart!" Angell gestured wildly at Gus, her finger coming close to poking the other woman in the chest.

"Jess, you'll have to excuse me, but what the hell are you having a hissy fit about?" Gus asked backing up and around the corner to the supply closet.

"Did you tell IAB about me and Don seeing each other?" Angell hissed under her breath.

Gus shook her head, opening the door to the closet, trying for a tiny bit of privacy. "No, I didn't. I wasn't really privy to the details nor do I really want to know about them now. But I do take offense at you excusing me of telling IAB. I may have been stupid in breaking off our engagement and running away, but I am not an idiot. I would never snitch on Don or you or any other homicide detective to the rat squad. Jesus, Jess!" Gus crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot.

"If it wasn't you, who was it? And what do you mean your engagement, Don proposed to you?" Angell's expression was stoney, but her chin quivered slightly.

"Twice, actually, not that that is relevant. I am sure no one was trying to deliberately call y'all out, could have just overheard some gossip or maybe Don was trying to get out in front of things and told them himself. It shouldn't matter anyway, so y'all are...whatever it is you are doing, you weren't even in the room, it isn't going to change anything. We just need to chill until Sid finds what actually killed the kid." Gus tried to not feel satisfied at the vein she could see throbbing in Angell's forehead, it didn't matter that she had been with Don first anyway, Angell was with him now and Gus got to go home to an empty bed.

"Fine, but you know he didn't do anything wrong." Angell stormed out of the closet, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

"How the hell do you do this day in and day out?" Flack asked her a while later, pacing through the pit.

"Do what?" Gus asked, flipping though a file.

"Nothing, be a part of the rubber gun squad, I feel naked." His hand dropped to the empty holster on his hip.

"First you are wearing a suit, second I still have my gun, third I kindly invite you to prance around in mini-dresses and get used as a punching game for a sex trafficker next time, and finally you are being a jerk because this isn't nothing, this is trying to make a dent in nine thousand cold cases!" Gus slammed her file shut, waving her hands at him.

Flack stopped, looking at down at her flushed face, he had clearly hit a nerve. He walked over, perching on the edge of her desk. "I didn't mean it like that, Gus, I just feel-" he searched for the right word.

"Frustrated, useless, redundant, bored, ineffectual, powerless? Should I continue, because believe me, bub, I have felt all of those things in the past few months and then some. It isn't exactly a laugh riot being chained to a desk, I get that, but you do what you can to make a difference however you can. Or you can pace around and whine about it, that is helpful as well." Gus leaned back in her chair, giving Flack a look.

Flack gave her a small smile, "Bub, really, sunshine?"

"If the bub fits, now how about you take over Parker's desk and I teach you the Broussard cold case method and you help me get through some of these files?" Gus gave him a smile and raised her eyebrows, hoping to get his mind off the investigation.

A few hours later, after being interrupted what seemed like a hundred times by people checking in on him, Flack looked up from the file box he had been going though. Gus had a pretty nifty system worked out, one that he thought could actually bring new life to many old cases. He looked over at her, her hair carefully adjusted so her scar wouldn't show, chewing on a pen cap as she made notes on a legal pad. "Hey, Gus?" he said.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking up and blowing an errant strand out of her face.

"How come you haven't asked me about Todd Fleming?"

"The kid? Because there is nothing to ask. Obviously something crazy happened and the kid dropped dead. Plus I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would. I know you know I am a very good listener, could practically make a career out of it." She flashed him a broad grin.

Flack gave a small chuckle. "I've missed this, working together. Regardless of anything, we do make a pretty good team, though you do have a nice set up here with these."

"Thanks, Flack, I mean that, I really do."

"I still couldn't go this for very long though," Flack sighed at the file.

"I guess I have gotten used to it, and with the Shirazi case, I don't really have a choice. Plus, it is kind of nice being able to sleep through the night."

"I'll take your word on it, sunshine." Flack gave her a dimpled grin, breaking off when Angell came storming up to the desk.

"Don, can I talk to you, over there?" she pointed with her head to their desks.

"Yeah, sure. See you, Gus." With that, he was gone, leaving Gus feeling as cold as her files.

* * *

**Chapter 56: Kelly Ripa**

"So things worked out with Flack?" Doyle asked a few days later as they walked back from the conference room at the DA's office.

A pow wow had been called trying to untangle the mess of the Shirazi case, which was being fought over by the New York DA and the Feds. A Grand Jury had already moved the case forward, but the Feds were trying to swoop in and make an example of the case. Gus felt like she would go crazy if she had to go through one more deposition, but at least she could do it practically in her sleep by now.

Gus paused briefly, giving him a small smile. "I'm going to need you to be more specific, Jimmy. If you mean he got his badge back and was cleared, yes, everything is peachy keen with Don Flack."

Doyle cleared his throat, rocking back and forth on his heels. "That great, huh?"

"Yeah, so I finally stopped hiding down in the evidence locker because you and everyone else kept bugging me about it only to be faced with the cozy twins being all coy. Tried to convince Parker to move our desks around and he said it was too obvious and I needed to grow a thicker skin." Gus rolled her eyes, then drew herself square as she saw Deputy Inspector Whitford heading their way.

"Assume she wants some of the glory now, heard she's got a bee in her bonnet over the whole thing," Doyle said, shoving his hands angrily in his pockets.

"Play nice, Jimmy. She means well, I think. Inspector Whitford, nice to see you!" Gus smiled at the other woman as soon as she got in hearing distance.

"How many times must I tell you, it is Gillian. I am mostly well and it is serendipitous that I find just the two people I needed to speak with together. May I treat you both to coffee and we can go have a chat in my office?"

Doyle gave Gus an uneasy look, but Gus kept on smiling. "If I ever turn down coffee, please check my pulse. Let me just call Parker and let him know where I will be."

They all settled in to Whitford's office as Gillian flipped through some files before facing them. "I know you have been in the middle of dealing with the Shirazi case, I am also aware the Feds are trying to take it away from us. While I do not want that to happen, as I have discussed a few times with Detective Broussard, human trafficking is on a definite rise. The Mayor and Governor are debating starting a Task Force and your knowledge would prove invaluable. I have already had several meetings to get as much information as possible from what Gus observed inside the operation. Lieutenant Doyle, I would love your input as well. Not only is this a personal cause for me, it is a professional one as well, increasingly so. The Mayor has passed off another letter from another concerned father about his missing daughter. He is flying into New York in the next couple of days to talk and I cannot imagine it will be a pleasant chat."

"Why isn't major case involved or missing persons? Do we know it is a SVD case?" Doyle took the files Gillian proffered, flipping through them. He whistled, "these are a lot of letters. How come I haven't seen any of them before?"

"These are girls that have fallen through the cracks, as much as I hate to admit that. I would like for you both to sit on the Task Force as my representative, if you are willing and for Detective Broussard to continue to let me pick her brain as needed. Doyle, I do know you recently took over as Lieutenant in SVD, so this will dovetail with your administrative role nicely." Gillian's smile was nice enough, but her tone left little room for argument.

Gus knew from the few in-depth discussions she had had with Gillian that her niece had been one such girl to fall through the cracks and Gillian deeply suspected the girl as being sold. Gus had revealed nearly everything about the Shirazi case, far more than anything in any of her depositions, because Gillian was seeking knowledge far different than that of any attorney. Gus had found their talks therapeutic in many ways, because while everyone wanted to know the basic facts, she truly unburdened herself of her emotions while being undercover. Gus had compartmentalized, something she had mastered in her work as a psychologist, not allowing anything but surface emotions show. She knew this wasn't healthy, but even Lyons hadn't pressed her for many details. Gillian was far more interested in learning how to stop girls from being abducted and sold than to judge Gus for anything, so for the first time in months, she was able to just be. It still didn't free her from the pain of seeing Don with Jess, but it did help her to sleep through the night without a myriad of night terrors and actually help her believe that she was healing enough to get back to the field should she want to.

"I'm guess the correct answer is yes, I am honored to join this Task Force?" Doyle asked with a smirk.

"Nice to have you on board, Lieutenant. I will let you both get back to your busy lives, but please know I am genuinely glad to have both your knowledge bases and expertise on this."

"Expert, BS, she just wants to make sure all the departments play nice with each other," Doyle grumbled as he stabbed the elevator down button.

Gus rolled her eyes. "Jimmy, these are tons of missing girls, underage, half of them barely speak English, I am pretty sure they meet criteria for being special victims. Not to mention they are all pretty, so that means lots of press."

"No wonder the Mayor is so hot to trot then. I just hate Task Forces, all this nicey nice and no actual work being done."

"Maybe you can change that?" Gus suggested as they reached the sixth floor.

"Not likely, but thanks for your vote of confidence. Same time tomorrow?"

"Unless the DA says otherwise."

* * *

**Chapter 57: Picture of You**

A few days went by with little movement on any of her cases or the trial. Gus was beginning to feel more than a little stir crazy at her desk when she heard the distinctive clack of Gillian's heels before the woman was visible in the pit. Her face was set in a grim line as she approached Gus' desk. "Detective Broussard, I need you to take a ride with me."

"Ma'am?" Gus felt like she had been called into Sister Mary Francis' office at Sacred Heart.

"The father who I was telling you about, he was found murdered. Crime Lab traced Rani, to the old mustard factory. They are sending in a team now, so please, come with me."

Gus followed wordlessly, remaining silent for the tense ride to the factory. The team had already swept through and the lab was already processing evidence. It was clear that many girls had been held in the decrepit space and Gus gave an involuntary shudder. She also took notice of both Sheldon and Lindsay watching her carefully as she followed behind Gillian, she gave them both meek smiles.

"You picked quite the case to come back out in the field on," Flack said coming up behind her as Gillian walked off to talk with Mac and Stella.

"It wasn't entirely voluntary," she replied, gesturing toward Gillian.

Flack crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at her. "You ever get put in a place like this?" His tone was full of concern.

Gus shook her head, "nope, supremely lucky, I guess. No drugs except that last night, no flea infested hovels. High class sex trafficking for the win." Gus shivered some more.

"You want my jacket?" Flack offered, seeing her shake.

She waved him off, "I'll be fine, just hits home, you know?" They were interrupted by Stella yelling for all units to look for the the witness they had been questioning who had just done a runner out the window.

"Duty calls, take care of yourself, sunshine." Flack was gone in a flash leaving Gus to follow in Gillian's wake.

Gus found herself in the middle of a heated exchange between Gillian and Mac outside the interview room. She had been entranced with watching Flack press Willie Burton about the drugs found in the warehouse when Gillian snapped at Mac. Gus flinched, knowing how poorly Mac took being second-guessed. She bristled further when Gillian told Mac they were doing things her way or not at all before storming out. Mac looked at Gus for a long beat. "She might be right, Mac, but I trust Flack too. There's a lot more going on here."

"I figured that out," Mac replied before following after Gillian.

Gus stayed planted in front of the window as Flack came out.

"He's like freaking Burger King in there with his have it his way," Flack said as he shut the door firmly behind him.

"At least he is willing to do it. You trust him?" Gus asked.

Flack smirked, "do I ever trust a CI?"

"About as far as you can throw 'em, I know."

"What do you think?" Flack said, draining a bottle of water.

"I think if Gillian gets her way, it isn't going to happen."

"Gillian? On a first name basis with the Deputy Inspector, are we?" Flack raised his eyebrows.

"We've been talking about my UC cases, she wanted to know the ins and outs of...well everything." Gus shrugged.

Flack glowered slightly, "why didn't you tell her to just read the depositions?"

Gus studied him carefully, trying to figure out what was going through his head as he seemed suddenly protective. "You know lawyers, Flack, she wanted details that weren't ever going to see the light of day in the court room."

"Yeah, like what?" he pressed on.

"Like the operations, like how they find the girls to prey on, just stuff, Flack! Why so interested?"

"Because I don't know what happened to you in there, all I know is you disappeared again, and I get a call that you are at the hospital bleeding out. You get out and it seems like you've been avoiding me at every turn. I'm worried about you, and I just hope Gillian," he nearly spat out her name, "isn't using you for her own gain."

"So what if she is? What happened to me wasn't great, but it was a hell of a lot better than what is happening to most of the girls caught up in this and if she uses it for her gain, good for her, at least someone is trying to stop this crap from happening!" Gus stepped back, distancing herself from Flack and refraining from replying to his other comments.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I am trying with slick Willie in there-" Flack cut off as Mac came back in.

"Set it up, it's a go." Mac looked at each of them with a long, cold stare before moving on.

Gus turned on her heel and went to check in with Gillian.

* * *

It was several hours later, well past the time she should have gone home and Gus was going through files at her desk. Gillian had waved her off, telling her there was nothing more to do. She had seen Flack pop in and out a couple of times, but couldn't bring herself to approach him, especially since he was clearly a man on a mission. He finally approached her, just as she was about to give up and go home.

"We found Rani, safe and sound. Whitford's taking her down to Sid now to view her father's body. She told me to tell you to go home."

Gus sighed, putting up her files. "I will, I just about gave up on ever being in the loop again."

Flack still hadn't moved. "You want a ride?"

Gus debated, wanting to spend the time with him but not liking the tension between them, not to mention the jealousy gnawing at her soul. "Not tonight, Flack, but thank you, for everything, including worrying about me. I can take care of myself, though."

"I know you can, doesn't mean I don't worry though." He gave her shoulder a small squeeze before walking away, looking back over his shoulder at her as she pulled on her coat.

* * *

**Chapter 58: That's What I'm Talking About**

Much to both her and Doyle's amazement, the trial actually went ahead. Perhaps riding on the coat tails of the press after the recent trafficking ring bust. While it was good to try to get the whole Shirazi episode behind her, it meant days on end of sitting outside a courtroom and suffering what felt like a bruised tailbone, not to mention having Parker bitch and moan about her abandoning him.

Gus was finally called in to testify, which ended up a full day of exhausting grilling about not only the case, but also her work as both a detective and a psychologist. Luckily, they didn't delve too much into her personal life as Doyle figured they would, since hearing wind of the feds sniffing around, several of Shirazi's players had made deals with the DA, leaving her to testify for only one of the hold outs. While she couldn't wait to get home, she decided to run by the precinct first to check in and let them know she would be back the next day. Hopefully, she would be back out in the field making cold cases warm again soon.

She was greeted by an eerily empty pit, except for an angry looking Flack and Daddino. "Did I miss an alien invasion?" she asked, looking around in confusion.

"Freaking blue flu, and this shit better end soon! Are you done with that damn trial yet?" Daddino roared.

"Sure am, Loo, that is why I was dropping by."

"Good, you better not catch anything on the way home, I will see you bright and early." Daddino turned on his heel, heading into his office and slamming his door.

"Jesus, did everyone call in?" Gus asked, approaching Flack's desk.

"Pretty much." Flack sighed in frustration, running his hands through his closely cropped hair.

"Lafferty and Thatcher don't surprise me, but Parker?" Flack nodded. "Even Angell?" Gus looked incredulous as Flack nodded and all but snapped his pencil in two.

"Yeah, even her. Hell, even Danny left a crime scene." He paused for a moment, looking her up and down, "we could have used you today."

Gus studied his face, trying to figure out if his tone was one of frustration. "I would have rather been here than being grilled on the stand."

Flack looked weary, "I know, just bad timing."

"Well I'm here now, can I do anything?" Gus asked somewhat timidly.

He shook his head, "Nah, I'm good until tomorrow. Adam's actually questioning my latest suspect."

"Adam Ross Adam, our Adam?" Gus looked incredulous.

Flack nodded with a smile, "I know, they grow up so fast. Some kid who was waiting on him all day, seemed a little, ya know, funny."

This struck something in Gus, more than curiosity, something akin to concern. "He in interview right now?"

"Yeah, room 3. Mac and Stella are observing with the uncle."

Gus sped off, reaching the room in time to see Adam listening to a young kid tell how he accidentally killed his father in a fit of rage as Mac was attempting to explain reaction formation to someone Gus could only guess was the kid's uncle. They all listened as Adam drew the sad story from the boy, including his years of OCD as a way of coping with his mother's death.

"Jake's just a kid!" the uncle pleaded in shock.

Gus bristled at Mac's sanctimonious replies as Stella looked on into the interview. "Mac, not now," she pleaded with him, leading the uncle out, catching sight of Adam nearly crumbling in the interview room.

She gave Jake's uncle the names of a couple of good mental health lawyers she knew and suggested that he hire his own child psychiatrist to evaluate Jake. She was just finishing talking with him as she saw Adam nearly jog out of the precinct with Stella close on his heels. Feeling fiercely protective of Adam, she didn't want Stella to be as by the book as Mac and upset Adam even more than Gus was sure he already was. She followed, breathing a sigh of relief when she realized Stella was as concerned for his well being as he was. She brushed past Stella who was watching Adam walk away and rushed to catch up with him, as quickly as she could in her heels.

"Hey, Adam, wait up!" she called before he could disappear.

He froze, turning around slowly, his eyes red, "Oh, hey, Gus, you look, um, weird." He ran a nervous hand through his hair.

Gus smiled at him, "yeah, I was in court all day, had to play grown up." She paused, laying a hand on his arm. "So, I saw you with Jake in interview, you did good."

"It was, whatever," he shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

"It was, you were really good. But I know it must have been really hard." Gus gave him a small smile. They had managed to grow much closer while she was back in New Orleans, his calls while recovering turned into a deep mutual friendship. Adam had revealed much to her, as she had to him. She knew about his struggles with PTSD after the big bust nearly a year before, not to mention his abusive father and struggles with anxiety, ADHD and OCD. He had been one of the only people that called her on a regular basis while she was in the hospital, and she was determined to be there for him now.

Adam didn't reply, scuffing his sneaker against the ground. Gus forged ahead, "I heard you say something to Stella about a slice and Guitar Hero, would you mind some company? I could really stand to forget about being grilled on the stand all day like I was the criminal." He still didn't reply, Gus had to wonder if he was still holding back tears. "My treat?" she added.

Adam finally looked up giving her a small smile, "well, if it's your treat, sure."

"Good, the works if you want it," Gus looped her arm through his adding, "but can I please go back in and change out of these heels first?"

Adam gave a small laugh, "would you please, you are almost as tall as me in those things."

* * *

Settled in with an extra large pie and a six pack and changed into far more comfortable clothing, Gus groaned as Adam obliterated her yet again at Guitar Hero.

"That's what I am talking about!" Adam finished the song off with a flourish " You actually play guitar, how are you so bad! Adam teased.

Gus growled, "shut it, Ross. Put on Grand Theft Auto and you are going down!"

"Fine, fine, I'll let you win a round!"

They cleared the pizza, though Adam did most of that clearing, evenly downing the six pack. Gus finally gave up even after Adam set her level to easy. "I give up, you win!"

"Quitter," Adam shot back, slouching against the back of the couch. He finished off his last beer. "Thanks, Gus, for coming over, it's probably better that I wasn't alone."

Gus shrugged, "kind of figured that. Besides, it's been too long since we caught up. Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it, you were getting better, and I know how long that can take, even if it looks like you're fine. You are fine, though, right?" His face was full of concern.

"I'm getting there, some days are better than others. At least the trial is over and hopefully that means I can get cleared for full duty. I don't know what will happen though, if they'll still want me on cold cases or what. With my luck they'll probably want to partner me with Angell." She sighed, finishing off her own beer.

"You want me to go get more?" Adam asked, gesturing at their empty bottles.

Gus stretched and shook her head. "Nah, I should probably get home. But thanks, I think we both needed this. I do demand a rematch though."

Adam tried to ignore how his stomach flopped as her smile lit up her whole face, it was something he wasn't seeing as often on her. He walked her to the door, grinning as she fumbled with the zipper on her jacket. "You name the time and the place, Blondie, and I will kick your butt again," he teased, tugging on her ponytail.

"Look at you, being all cocky. Good night Adam, get some rest." She landed a quick peck on his cheek, smiling to herself as he turned crimson before bounding for the stairs.


	13. Lord Knows I'm Drinking

**Chapter 59: Saturday High**

"Welcome, fully, back, Detective," Daddino said after pulling her into his office a couple of days later.

Gus all but jumped up and down. "You mean it, I am cleared for full duty?"

Daddino nodded, "all squared away as of this morning. Wish it would have happened before that damn blue flu, but at least that is all behind us now."

Gus nodded, but inwardly cringed thinking of her brief conversation with Mac about the check he had received from Dunbrook. Her uncle seemed to have become more and more of a target for crazies as of late. Beyond that hazards of the job, she still worried about Ella's fascination with him, even if Mac did brush her off whenever she tried to talk to him about it and now Dunbrook had reached out to him. She hoped the media mogul knew there was no way he was making the steadfast head of the crime lab his puppet.

"So it is, now where does that leave me?" Gus held her breath, waiting for his answer.

Daddino drummed his fingers on his desk, "Brass likes your system for cold cases. So you'll stick with them and Parker for now, but try to actually get some play on them, instead of just sorting through boxes. I will pull you when I need you as a floating partner, we still are down at least a couple of detectives with the cuts. You okay with that?"

She nodded, happy her prophecy to Adam hadn't come true, but knowing that she could still be working side by side with either Flack or Angell still made her uneasy. At least she would be out from behind a desk and have some hope of actually using her handcuffs. "Thanks, Loo, for all your patience."

Daddino waved her off, "you make my numbers look too good, Broussard, I'm not a complete ogre. Now get out there and clear some damn cases."

Gus strutted back to her desk with a renewed vigor. Flack caught sight of her and couldn't help but smile. "Looks like someone is finally back in the field." She nodded with a broad grin, taking his high five. "Bet you it won't take three middle of the night call outs in the freezing cold before you're complaining about wanting to be back on mod duty."

"Bar tab at Sully's says bullshit, Flack," Gus replied with a wink.

Flack started to reply, but was interrupted by his phone. "Flack, yeah, yeah, what? You have got to be kidding me! I'll be right there." He hung up his phone, shaking his head. "I got a weird one for you, first full day back present."

Gus gave a small pout, "Can't, got to make Daddino's cold case numbers look got, apparently I am a floating partner now, whatever the hell that is."

"Sounds fun. Well, I owe you a celebratory coffee, but don't get it from the place Stella and Mac just called me from."

"Why is that?" Gus asked curiously.

"Stella found, get this, an eyeball in her coffee. Now I know fancy coffee drinks are all the rage, but that is just disgusting." He gave her a dimpled smirk.

Gus made a face, "that is gross, you better go. See you later."

"Thanks. Congrats, sunshine, glad you are really back."

Parker was glad to have Gus off modified duty, he hadn't played well with the uniforms he had been placed with. Not to mention it was nice to have an actual detective backing him up on interviews, instead of scared boots worried about saying something wrong. Gus was thrilled to be back as well, even if it did mean going back to shift work. There was something immensely satisfying about delving into cold cases. A lot of the work was going back to the lab to get them to run evidence through using new techniques, but to Gus this meant she got to interface with people she had genuinely missed. Some times they were backed up, like with the crazy eyeball case but she could usually find someone to to help. Most times it was Lindsay, who was heavily pregnant and couldn't go out in the field, but hated being 'just a lab rat'. This gave the women time to catch up, at least somewhat on the goings on in their lives over the past few months. The least of which was Lindsay's spur of the moment marriage to Danny.

"Sorry I didn't ask you to be a bridesmaid!" Lindsay said, beaming.

"Yeah, because I have so been dying to wear some ugly taffeta dress that I supposedly could but in reality there is no way in hell I ever would wear again. I am happy for you, both of you! When do you head back home?"

"Tomorrow, it was supposed to be yesterday, but the weather was bad out there."

"Why on earth did you come in today then?" Gus asked, looking at her friend like she was crazy.

Lindsay smiled, grabbing the bags Gus had brought up. "Who else would run all your cold case evidence?

* * *

The more time she spent back in the lab, the more Gus realized how much she had been hiding. First by leaving, then by going over to SVD and even after, she had separated herself from what was essentially her family. Gus also was happy to renew her friendship with Adam, his quirky personality being the perfect antidote to the doldrums that still plagued her.

Which is how she found herself agreeing to join him at a street hockey game out on Staten Island on a Saturday she magically had off.

"You know there is high probability I will break something important, right, sugar?" Gus drawled as they got out of the car on the bright sunny day, that teased the first signs of spring.

Adam rolled his eyes at her, "it's street hockey, Gus, and that is why we are swapping off playing goalie. Just stand there, stop the ball from going in the net, we don't even have to be on skates. Otherwise, just cheer some the sidelines."

Gus sighed, "fine, I guess I can handle that." She paused and gave him a smile, "thanks for inviting me, Adam, and for helping to get me out of my state of...what was it you called it again...'hermittude', I appreciate it."

Adam tinged slightly, "it's fine, I mean, you helped me and that's, well, that's what friends are for, right?"

"You two playing or yakking all day?" one of Adam's friends called from behind them.

The game went far better than Gus expected, she took goalie first round and surprised herself at being able to mostly keep up. Adam took over and Gus chatted with other players sitting out and a few of the plus ones, that had been brought along.

"How do you know Adam?" one of the girlfriend's asked.

"We work together," Gus replied, taking a long drink of water.

"Oh, yeah in the crime lab. Are you like a scientist or something?"the other woman flung her hair back.

Gus found herself slightly annoyed, "actually, I'm a cop."

"Like with a gun and stuff? But you're a girl!"

Gus narrowed her eyes at the other woman, but decided to hold her tongue. "I need a drink." Gus stomped off toward the car where the cooler was. She saw Adam going for a ball that had rolled under a car a little bit behind heirs. "You want one?" she asked, holding up a can. Adam nodded before slithering under the car, emerging victorious with the ball in hand.

Gus laughed, reaching for another can when the explosion occurred. At first Gus didn't process what was happening, all she knew was that she had been reaching in the trunk and then she was flying in the air, landing on someone's front lawn in an undignified heap. She shook her head in disbelief, observing the destruction around her. She patted herself down, she was covered in dust and ash, and a series of small cuts, the worst being from the can she had been holding, ready to give it to... "Adam!" Gus screamed, pulling herself to her feet, shaking herself off and practically vaulting over the car in between her and him. It was then she realized the house in front of them was blown apart, the blast seeming to have emanated from the van that was ripped open on its side. She saw one of Adam's friend's talking to him and then Adam go tearing in the direction of the wreckage of the house.

"Adam, stop!" she called out, trying to go after him, but slipping on debris and ending up back on the ground. Gus had a sneaking suspicion she had re-cracked at least one of her recently healed ribs. "Crap!" she swore, reaching for her back pocket for her phone. Miraculously it was there, though the screen was cracked. She dialed Mac, her hands shaking. He answered on the first ring. "Mac, it's me, there was an explosion and it was bad and Adam..." she babbled.

"Gussie, where are you?"

She gave him the address and moved as quickly as she could over to the where Adam and another guy were working on moving piles of wreckage on the site of the house. Her ears stopped ringing enough to hear the calls for help. Gus dug in, hauling away limber and drywall. They were pulling the man away from the wreckage, what remained of the house crumbling behind them as the first responders arrived on scene. EMTs rushed to them, Gus shoved the guy from the house at them, turning to look at Adam. A large cut was bleeding over his head and he seemed in shock. Not that she blamed him, she was too. "Adam, you're bleeding," she said her voice shaking as she reached out to his head.

"So are you," he replied, pointing to her hand that was still dripping blood.

"I'm fine, what about, you were right by the van!"

"I dunno..." he started.

A truck came screeching up to them, Mac and Hawkes jumping out. "Gus, Adam, what happened?" Mac asked.

"Van, went boom, house, bad, pulled a guy out," Adam spat out.

"There was someone in the house?" Mac asked.

Gus nodded, "EMTs just grabbed him."

Mac ordered Hawkes to go question the man from the house and got a severely shaking Adam to sit down. He looked at Gus' hand. "Get that wrapped, now!" he ordered before turning to question Adam.

A waiting EMT led her to a rig, first aid kit at the ready. Gus had just had her hand wound cleaned and wrapped when Flack came up to her, looking gravely serious.

"You okay?" he asked.

Gus nodded, "yeah, I think so. What are you doing here, I thought everyone was fine."

Flack shrugged, "Mac called. What where you doing here, what happened?"

"That van exploded, took the house with it. There was a guy trapped inside, we got him out. Adam had invited me to play street hockey."

"You were playing street hockey, I would have paid to see that, sunshine." Flack smiled down at her, the smile leaving his face when he saw her grip her side. "You need to get that looked at?"

Gus shook her head, "I'm fine, just dirty and shaken. Little confused." She looked up at the man approaching them, his windbreaker showing he was from Homeland Security. "Looks like we have company," she nodded with her chin.

Flack turned, "great, just great. How about I take this, you take it easy, Gus, I mean it."

Gus would have loved to have taken it easy, but she was too busy getting grilled by an alphabet soup of government agencies, all who seemed less than thrilled that should could give them no more information than she had been reaching for a drink and then ended up ass over tea kettle. It was hours before they let her go and a fed drove her and Adam back to the precinct.

"How you holding up?" Gus asked on the drive back.

Adam rubbed at his cut, "it's not as bad as it looks."

"I wasn't talking about the cut."

Adam slid his eyes sideways, "I'm fine, Gus, really. How about you, your hand alright?"

"No big deal. Last time I ever offer to grab you a drink, though." She turned to look at him with a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, I'm guessing you aren't going to play street hockey again anytime soon either, huh?"

"At least I didn't break anything important."

* * *

**Chapter 60: French Revolt**

"What, you just can't have a normal day off? Go shopping, get your nails done, be a girl for once?" Daddino griped as she checked in with him at the station. "You've been back on unmodified duty for what, two weeks. Go home, take a couple of days and stay the hell out of trouble, Broussard!"

Gus stormed out of Daddino's office, running straight into Flack. "What are you doing back here, sunshine?"

"Nothing, apparently! Coached benched me. Freaking again," Gus tried to push past him but Flack didn't budge.

"And he should have, don't think I didn't see you rubbing your ribs back there. I'm guessing you didn't tell Daddino about that neither. Take a couple of days, rest up, you ain't gonna do anyone any good otherwise."

"Fine, but you gotta move so I can get home." Gus avoided his gaze, but Flack reached up under her chin tilting it up to him.

"I mean it, I won't tell anyone, but don't come back until you know you are ready." His gaze was intense enough to send a shiver through Gus, she almost went weak at the knees. Unable to form words, she merely nodded until he removed his hand and stepped aside.

As much as it pained her to admit it, Flack and Daddino were right. She needed to be in top form on the job, especially if she had to chase anyone down in the field. She had enough working against her with the fact that most suspects outweighed and out muscled her, let alone her own body failing her. So Gus took a few days, even checking in with her doctor to get the all clear on her ribs, which were thankfully just bruised. She returned to work only to have Parker tease her mercilessly and to find Flack in a foul mood over a case involving an old assistant ME.

Gus stood over his desk, her hand on her hip."What is it with you lately, practically every time I see you, you have a scowl on your face!" She didn't add that the only time she didn't see a scowl was when he was busy flirting with Angell, but she thought it, really hard.

Flack looked around at the detectives in the pit. "Walk with me?"

Gus shrugged and followed him to the break room down the hall, Flack looked in to see if it was empty before stepping in. Gus wondered why he was being so cautious.

Flack finally started to speak, "Pino was here for a long time, before you got here, and you know how they are up in the lab, it's like a family. Hawkes can't wrap his head around the fact that this guy may have offed his wife, dragged me out of the interview like I don't know how to do my job. In the meantime, the only thing I have to go on is some guy in a baseball cap and sunglasses that pulled a runner on me earlier."

Gus gave a half snort, "and we all know how much you love runners."

"Yeah well," Flack gave a shrug, "and Jess has got this thing going with Stella about that damn Greek guy and I am not sure it is all above board-" he broke off, looking like he had said too much. "You'll keep that between just us, right?"

"No, Flack, I'm going to run and tell my uncle. Jesus, that's as bad as when I first got here on psych. Do you really think that little of me or do you just not trust me anymore?" Gus was annoyed, but that annoyance let her ask the questions she had been holding back. She wanted a better idea of where she stood with Don, especially if she ended up as his floating partner. Him thinking ill or her or not trusting her could end up with both of them dead.

Flack sighed heavily, "it's not that, I'm not saying...damn it, Gus, you and I gotta figure this out if we are gonna-" he broke off, his phone buzzing. He talked for a bit before tersely ending the call. "Finally, I got some movement." He strode out, Gus following close behind as he walked over to the cabinet where their vests were stored."You and I are going to have a nice long talk, sunshine, but first I gotta go find some scumbag with an itchy trigger figure at a massage parlor." He pulled one out and shot a look at Gus with his eyebrows raised.

"Nice long talk, got it. But, Don, be careful, okay?" She looked at him with such concern that Flack could only nod in response.

It was not until the next night before paths crossed Flack's again, and once more he was headed to the vest cabinet.

"Jesus, Flack, two days in a row. What is going on with this case?"

He shook his head, "crap, it's crap. Looks like Pino had his wife offed and, get this, he was cooking organs out for drugs. Traced him to Queens, patrol bureau is tracking him down now. All hands on deck, you in?" He started to pull out a vest for her.

She waved him off, "would love to, but I got someone sitting in interview right now, was just letting him think about things and have a minute alone with Parker. Be careful again, would ya?"

Flack tugged her hair, "always am. Don't think I've forgotten about our talk either."

Gus gave a hallow laugh, "I am sure you haven't."

* * *

Because of their disparate schedules, it was a while before Gus saw more than Flack in a rush to get somewhere or vice versa. He also was back on the same schedule as Angell, so Gus wasn't about to approach them, less the other woman bite her head off again. She knew the lab was busy working cases, including the death of a Native American Chief that had involved all her patrol support being pulled in for translation services. This had left Parker and Gus both frustrated in a couple of interviews, including Parker complaining about why people couldn't just speak English.

"It is a melting pot, Parker!" she countered.

"Or at least Spanish, we can handle Spanish, or what is that funny language you are always cursing in?"

"Back swamp Cajun, or dirty French, supposedly like regular French, which doesn't explain why I got a C when I took in high school."

"I find it hard to believe you ever got a C in anything, Princess."

"If I'm lying, I'm dying, dawlin"

"Hell forget other languages, half the time I can't understand you when you are speaking English."

Gus rolled her eyes, "thanks a lot. I say we just table this Nguyen case for now, until we can get someone in that speaks Vietnamese. Where are we on that Reilly case?"

They worked through what they coined their 'warm cases' for a few hours, making progress on a few. Gus was feeling pretty good about things and bolstered by this, decided maybe it was time for that chat with Flack. Seeing Angell leave for the night, she walked up to Flack's desk.

Unfortunately she heard Angell's special recording on one of the translators for him. She turned to go back to her desk before he realized she had been approaching, catching Lafferty teasing Flack. "Oh la la, looks like you got you your own French maid, huh, Donnie?"

Parker, having just put some files away, overheard Lafferty's barb. "It is a beautiful language," Parker said louder than he should have.

Both Flack and Lafferty turned, Parker and Gus both froze. Flack's eyes went icy as he realized Gus had overheard Angell's message.

"Yeah, well, la beauté apporte pas à dîner!" Gus exploded, before fleeing to the locker room.

"What the hell was that about?" Lafferty asked as Parker slunk away and Flack worked his jaw.

* * *

**Chapter 61: Lord Knows I'm Drinking**

As though he knew about her outburst in the pit and wanted to torment her, Gus was pulled into Daddino's office right before the next rotation was posted.

"Sir?" Gus asked, refusing the offered chair, her nerves on edge.

Daddino cleared his throat, leading on the edge of his desk, the spreadsheet in one hand and stapler in the other. "while I am glad you are making my ComStats look great on cold cases, kid, I need you on active cases for the next rotation. Thatcher failed his medical, and I knew better than to have you and Lafferty partnered up unless we wanted World War III, so I stuck Parker with him."

Gus nodded, her heart thudding, praying he wouldn't utter Jessica Angell's name. She waited for him to continue, her heart sinking when he did. "I know this might not be the best situation for you, so before I post it, I wanted to make sure that two of my best detectives didn't end up in the hospital or the basement. Though if you refuse, I gotta warn you the alternative is letting a boot ride along with you. I am putting you with Flack for the next rotation unless you say otherwise." Daddino stared her down, his eyes daring her to challenge him.

Gus sighed, it wasn't the best situation, but better than it could have been. She knew despite their trials and tribulations, Don would still have her back. "Does Flack have an issue with it?"

"Nope, he just shrugged and said whatever, so I figured you two had figured things out. You have, right?" His expression remained the same, and Gus knew better than to argue.

She gave a half shrug as well, "guess so. Is that all?"

Daddino nodded, "yep. Post this for me, will you?"

"Sure make me the bad guy with Parker."

"Just buy him lunch and he'll be fine."

Flack wasn't around for most of her shift, or she didn't see him because she was too busy in questioning with a large Vietnamese family and a translator trying to get information from them about the death of their teenage daughter five years before. Gus was desperate to get movement on this case before she was back with active cases and paired with Flack. She needed something to bolster her courage over the next rotation.

* * *

After hours of tedious questioning, Gus and Parker finally leaned hard enough on the youngest son, now no longer a minor and learned he had been fighting with his sister over the television and as they were wrestling over the remote, she tumbled out the open window, falling to her death. For years the boy had remained quiet, telling his overworked parents that his sister wasn't there when he got home from school. They thought she had run off with her boyfriend and fear of immigration issues and language barriers, they hadn't reported her missing. Since her body had fallen into the dumpsters below, it hadn't been discovered until weeks later at the dump and it had taken months to even identify her. While the case was closed, Gus found little of the victory she had been hoping for and was downtrodden as she headed for the locker room late that night.

Flack ran into her in the hallway. "You heading out?" Gus nodded, feeling weary. "Guess you talked to Daddino, huh?" Flack hitched the thumb towards the board with their rotation. Gus just nodded again, not sure what to say. She leaned against the wall, her jacket draped over her arms. Flack moved closer, staring down at her, his eyes a sky blue of concern. "You got time to catch a drink?"

Gus chewed on her lip, knowing they should have that talk before being partnered up again, but her energy flagging. She closed her eyes briefly, unable to handle Flack's close scrutiny. "I know we need to talk, Don, I do. But can we catch that drink at my place? I am exhausted and don't want to be around a bunch of unis off shift."

Flack shifted his weight, looking hesitant and torn. This expression caused Gus' heart to twist a little and she realized the oceans that still lie between them. Desperate to lighten the mood she rolled her eyes, "Jesus, Flack, I am not going to jump you or anything, if I try you can taser me, okay? Besides, you know I have a better stocked bar than Sully's anyway and the Lord knows I am drinking."

Flack smiled, the mood lifted. "I can't argue with that, sometimes I wonder if you are running a speakeasy on the side. Just let me got grab a taser gun real quick." His smile widened, his dimples on full display.

Gus rolled her eyes again and returned his smile with one of her own. "You are so hilarious, detective."

Gus tried to not sigh as she returned carrying their drinks and saw Flack pressed against the arm of her sofa, his spine straight and his suit jacket still on. She set his drink in front of him, moving to the other end of the sofa with hers, stretching out on the chaise in an attempt to appear relaxed and casual, despite feeling neither. They sipped in silence for a few minutes until Gus couldn't take anymore. "This is going to make for a great rotation, a month of uncomfortable silence. That should be awesome. Jesus Christ, Don, come on!" She took a long drink of her Old Fashioned and slammed her glass down on the table, shattering it in the process. Flack jumped to her aid, wordlessly rushing to the kitchen for a towel and returning to help her pick up the shards of glass.

Mopping up the liquid and glass, their eyes met in recognition of times past. Flack smiled, "good to know you are still a mess, sunshine."

"Some things won't ever change," Gus sighed, picking tiny specks of glass out her hand. "Let me just go take care of this," she gestured to her now bleeding hand, "but when I get back, I want another drink and for you to not look like I am about to devour your head."

* * *

**Chapter 62: Watcha Gonna Do**

Gus took her time cleaning her wound and placing a bandage on her hand, willing her nerves to steel themselves. When she got back to the living room, she was relieved to find Flack's suit coat on the rack, his shirtsleeves rolled and his tie loosened. He had poured her a whiskey neat and was sipping on what she guessed was his second round. "Thanks," she said, slumping on the sofa, closer to him this time, but distance still remaining.

"No problem. Look, Gus, if you don't think we can get through this rotation, say so now, I'll even take the boot ride along." His gaze was as serious as she could ever remember.

"I am not going to lie, I was a little freaked out when Daddino told me, but I don't want things to keep being weird between us, Don. I know I messed everything up, and I am probably never going to get over running away or be able to forgive myself. But that's all crap I need to put behind me. Despite whatever happened between you and I, we are amazing partners. I probably wouldn't have gotten my shield if it hadn't been for you, since the first case you let me ride along you have had my back. You know me better than anyone else, and because of that, I know I am the safest I am ever going to be on the job when I am with you. If I learned anything between running back to New Orleans and being undercover, it is that I want to be out there getting scum off the streets and giving voice to those that have had theirs taken away." Gus ended her speech with another long drink, carefully sitting her glass back down this time before turning to face Flack.

He sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and head on his hands before also turning. "You might be a mess, but you are right. We are damn good partners out there, you know what move I am going to make before I do and while I sometimes worry you are going to shoot yourself in the foot, you are always a couple of steps ahead of the skels. Not to mention you do all the paperwork." Flack gave her a small smile and took another drink, "but I hate there being all this tension between us, and its even worse when Jess is around, making us even bigger fodder for the guys to talk."

"They are going to gossip about something, Don, you know that. Since when did that ever matter to you?" Gus shook her head in wonder.

"When it can effect our careers or how well we do our jobs. Same as us partnering back up. I can't be worrying about you being pissed off at Lafferty running his mouth off or storming off because you overheard something you shouldn't have."

Gus knew he was talking about the French incident, but wasn't about to take all the blame. "Seriously, Flack? When am I not pissed at Lafferty and how does that effect my ability to do my job? And I am sorry your girlfriend likes to misappropriate department equipment for your little tete-a-tetes, but last time I checked, I wasn't the only jealous person storming around the pit!" She threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

Flack shook his head, "this, this is exactly what I mean. You can't just fly off the handle, we have to keep this professional!"

"I am not flying off the handle, I am merely pointing out that I am not the only one who has been acting like a moody high schooler since I came back. I can be perfectly professional and a damn good detective and still be pissed off that you and I can't seem to figure out all this junk between us. Maybe I shouldn't have ever come back to New York, maybe I just don't belong anywhere." It was Gus' turn to drop her head to her hands. She couldn't bare to look up, knowing if she made eye contact she would either burst into tears or say something she couldn't take back.

There was a long stretch of excruciating silence until Flack moved closer, resting his hand on her shoulder blade. "Don't say that, Gus, you belong here."

Gus turned her head slightly, looking at him sideways, holding back tears. "This sucks, Don, so much. I loved you, you weren't only my partner, but you were my best friend. You know more about me than anyone and because I messed up beyond belief, I have to now pretend like I barely know you and its killing me." The tears won out, wetting her eyelashes and rolling down her cheeks. She turned away from Flack, angrily wiping them away.

Flack gripped her arm, forcing her to turn back toward him, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. "You think it is so damn easy for me? I have never told anyone as much as I have told you, stuff I told you way before we were together, because I trusted you with everything. I trusted you with something I told myself I wouldn't ever let anyone fully have, my heart, Gussie. And you just threw that away like it was nothing. You think you leaving didn't kill me inside? But I was willing to let you go if it made you happy, I would have done anything for you to be happy. Now you are here, because leaving wasn't what you needed and you still aren't happy and you are doing everything you can to avoid me! You think I'm not dying a little every day over that? Burning yourself out there in the swamp, taking stupid risks here time and time again, almost getting yourself raped and killed more than once and for what?"

Gus broke free of his grip, flinging his hand off of her. "Because I deserve it Don, I deserve to be miserable and bruised and battered and to see you happily making googly eyes at Jess and to see everyone else moving along whether I am around or not. Because I made the biggest mistake of my life eleven months ago in leaving and this is my penance!"

Flack wasn't willing to concede, nor was he willing to watch Gus self-destruct. Yes, she had wounded him more deeply than any woman ever had. He had long ago decided given the woeful state of his parents marriage and bitter separation to never get married himself, never even fully let anyone into his heart, but that was before Augusta Broussard had swept into his life. Never mind that when she blew out of town she had left a path of destruction on his psyche, there was part of him that would always love her, even if he knew they couldn't be together, at least not until she had forgiven herself and figured out what she wanted out of life.

He reached for he again, holding tighter as she struggled. "Damn you and your Catholic education, Gus, screw your penance. You are a good person, and what you deserve is to be happy, but you aren't going to be until you forgive yourself."

Gus couldn't stop the tears, but she did stop resisting Flack's hold, knowing he wasn't going to let go. "I can't," she choked out, barely able to breathe.

"Why the hell not?" Flack cradled her wet face in his hands.

"I wounded the person I love the most, you, and I can't forgive myself because I can't expect you to forgive me." Her voice cracked and a mournful sob caught in her throat. So wounded was the sound that Flack couldn't help but pull her into his arms and let her sob against him. She was broken, and because Flack still loved her, regardless of what was blossoming between him and Angell, he was determined to help fix Gus.

She finally sobbed herself out, soaking the front of Flack's shirt in the process. As her sobs subsided into sniffles, Flack lightened the hold he had on her, lightly rubbing her back. Gus finally pulled away from his arms, wiping at her red and swollen face. "I must look like the loup garou," she sighed, running her hands over her face.

"You aren't hairy enough to be a werewolf, sunshine," Flack replied, with a wry smile.

Gus gave a small, strangled laugh. "Thanks, for everything, I think I ruined your shirt." She pointed at the mascara and makeup staining the front of the otherwise pristine fabric.

"It's just a shirt, Gus, I am more worried about you." Flack shook his head in amazement, disbelieving she could be more concerned about a shirt than her emotional breakdown. He wondered if she even knew how to not put everyone else first.

"I'll be fine, eventually, always am." Gus tried to put on a brave face, but she knew he could see right through it. What she had said was true, he did know her better than anyone and had never let her get away with half the stuff others did. Even her shrink didn't call her on as much as Don Flack did.

"Bullshit. This is not fine. I know you fine and this is about to down a fifth of bourbon in the bathtub and start smoking again Augusta, not everything is rainbows and kittens Augusta." Flack held her gaze, staring at her even as she became immensely interested with the grain in the leather on the sofa.

Silence swelled in the room, until barely audible and with a shaking voice Gus said, "I still love you, Don. I just want to take it all back." She forced herself to look up at him, even though she was terrified as to what she would see in his eyes.

Flack's expression was nearly unreadable, but the slight set to his jaw told Gus he was using all his strength to keep it that way. "Damn you, Gus, why couldn't you have said that months ago?" His eyes went almost slate gray instead of their normal blue, frustration and anger brewing just below the surface.

"Because I am a stubborn idiot!" Gus flung her hands up in equal frustration and anger.

Flack gave a strangled laugh, but didn't comment any further.

Gus got up and started pacing, chewing on her thumbnail. She stopped, staring at the window at Gramercy Park across the way, the darkened silence a haven in the chaos of the city lights. "Would it have made a difference months ago? Does it even matter now?" This time she couldn't bare to face him, her emotions so raw and fragile that she was near breaking down irretrievably. She didn't hear Flack, only saw his reflection in the window behind her, but she still did not turn.

He moved behind her, his form pressing against hers, she instantly melted against him as she had what seemed like countless times before, fitting up against him seamlessly. He wrapped his arms around her form, looking down at the park as well and thinking about all the moments they had shared down their, from one of their first kisses to her healing him far more than all the doctors in the world after the bomb blast to their lazy picnics rambling about the future or their cases, scaring the posh neighbors away with their theories and descriptions.

"I don't know, maybe," he said finally, and softly into her ear.

"Then or now?" she choked out.

"Gus, stop. I need time, I need to figure out what is going on with me and-" he broke off, feeling like he couldn't utter another woman's name in this intimate moment.

"Are you in love with her, do you love Jess?" Gus turned, facing him, wanting to see his eyes for this answer that could wound her more deeply than anything else, her palms pressed against his chest.

Flack swallowed, looking down at her with concern and tenderness. "I don't know, I could be, maybe one day, I just don't know yet. It started out as just a fling..." he trailed off, but did not break his gaze on Gus.

Gus didn't know how to react, it wasn't what she wanted to hear, but it wasn't a declaration of undying love for another woman either. She dropped her palms from his chest, leaving them hanging at her sides, still only about an inch from Flack. "What about me?" she whispered so softly, Flack could barely hear her.

He closed his eyes for a long moment. Standing this close to her, heat radiating off her body, it was taking everything in his power to not pull her in for a deep kiss and drag her down the hall to the bedroom, if he could even make it that far. He loved her, more than he had ever loved anyone, but she had broken the very heart he had worked so hard to protect. He was vulnerable with her, something Flack had prided himself on not being very often. Flack was a tough, sarcastic New York cop and until Gus only his sister had made him show more than a hint of emotion With Gus, his psyche was a damn open book.

"I haven't stopped loving you for a second, Gus, I am not sure I even can stop, but I can't just forget what you did. I need some time and space, so do you. We need to figure out if we want the same things or not, if it even was a good idea for us to have ever been together."

Gus looked up with him with grave sadness, she had no tears left to cry, but still her heart was heavy. "Are you saying you regret us?" Her hand involuntarily went to his face, her palm running down to his jaw line.

Flack covered her hand with his own, his fingers intertwining with hers as he brought her hand down. "No, nothing could be further from the truth, I don't regret a second of us, don't ever think that. I just can't be with you without knowing that you are all in, and you can't tell me you know that right now, you aren't in the right head space." He gently released her hand from his and Gus pulled it up to cover her mouth, knowing he was right and hating that he knew her so well.

She moved her palm to rub at her neck, "what about this rotation?"

Flack sighed, "we get through it. We don't need the crap from the pit or the mark on our files for refusing. No matter what else has been going on, you and I have always been able to be great cops at work, let's not prove anyone right. I'm sure there is already a pool going." He smiled at the last statement, as did Gus.

"I'm sure there is. I just have to ask one thing though, Don, please don't talk to me about what is going on with you and Jess, I just can't."

Flack smiled down at her, unconsciously tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I wouldn't, sunshine, I never want to see you hurt, that's why you've got me so worried."

"You need to stop worrying. I may not be fine right now, but I will be, eventually, I need time too."

Flack shrugged, "yeah, okay, guess I can't ask you for time unless I am willing to give it as well. You going to be alright tonight?"

Gus nodded giving him a half smile. "Yes, and I promise no drinking in the tub."

Flack gave a strangled laugh. "See you in a couple of days?"

Gus nodded again, sticking out her hand, "sure will, partner," she replied with a genuine smile.

Flack gave her outstretched hand a shake, "partners," he said, pulling her in for a hug. He landed a kiss on the top of her head, before pulling away and heading for the coat rack. He pulled the suit coat on, and reached for the items he had left on the entryway table. He tried to ignore the bevy of missed calls from Jess. Clipping the items to his belt, he turned one last time to look at Gus. "You are sure about tonight?" he pressed one last time.

"Time and space, Flack!" Gus protested with a smile.

"Goodnight, Broussard, see you next rotation." And with that, Flack was gone.


	14. Drama

**Chapter 63: Drama**

_A/N: Long chapter, spoilers for 5x20 "Prey." For those of you that didn't read or don't recall NOLA Rising and suddenly wonder who the hell is Muller, he was an attorney who stalked Gus. I was going to write a spinoff story explaining what happened to him, but I never did so none of us (me included) really know what happen to him!_

Gus attempted to enjoy her couple of days of before the next rotation, but found it difficult since the lab was on a separate schedule and everyone was busy working. Not to mention Lindsay was still in Montana, though she was able to somewhat rehash her talk with Flack over the phone.

"You told him you still loved him?" Lindsay squeaked out.

"Well it is the truth," Gus sighed.

"I just can't believe he wouldn't give you another chance."

Gus snorted, "I think your pregnancy hormones are making you crazy, or being married has turned you soft. I crushed him, Linds, why would Don even contemplate taking me back when he has someone a million times better than me waiting for him without any drama?"

Lindsay tutted at her friend, wanting things to work out for her and Flack. They were a good team, at work and outside of it, they both full of light and life when they had been together, something that had dimmed in both of them since Gus had left and come back. "Angell is just a shiny new toy, he'll get tired of her eventually and come to his senses. Or she'll get bored with him, you know how she is."

"But she's never had Don!" Gus protested.

"Who says she really has him now? Let him get this out of his system, he'll come around now that he knows the truth!"

"As I said, pregnancy hormones. Would you hurry up and come home?"

"I will, promise, Gus. I thought it would be great to be back here, but my parents are driving me crazy with all their fretting."

"Poor Lindsay, getting waited on hand and foot, crying you a river."

"Seriously, it is annoying. What about Stella?" Lindsay asked, realizing that the trio hadn't had a girls night in forever regardless of her pregnancy and that neither woman had mentioned seeing each other.

"Oh, didn't you hear, she also left me for the incomparable Jessica Angell, they are like so BFFs now. Or are least working on some super secret case I'm not supposed to know anything about because I will tattle tale to my uncle." Gus rolled her eyes.

Lindsay was rolling hers as well, but for a different reason. "Gus, hate does not become you, sweetie. And this is not the hormones talking, but I think you need to get laid and get things out of your system."

"Sure, Lindsay, because I have such a line of suitors coming a calling," Gus drawled.

"Just think about it. Look, I have to go, but chin up and we'll chat again soon. Good luck on your rotation."

"Thanks, I feel like I'll need it."

* * *

Gus arrived early for her shift, wanting to steel her nerves before working with Flack. The pit was nearly empty, which helped immensely. Parker had left a couple of donuts on her desk, something she realized was a great sacrifice for the man. She was had just taken a small bite of one when Daddino exited his office, a scowl on his face.

"Oh good, you're early, where the hell is everyone?" he said, walking over and stealing the box.

Gus knew better than to protest, working on swallowing her bite of donut and wishing she had eaten something more before coming in. "What's up, Cap?"

"This just came in on the tip line and unless someone has a sick sense of humor, looks like we need to get over there on the double. Since everyone else seems to be MIA, call Flack and have meet you over there. If it is an actual DB, get the crime lab on it ASAP." Daddino turned his tablet toward her so Gus could see the body splayed on the screen.

"Seriously, someone emailed this in?"

"Yep, gotta love the internet. I got tech doing a trace on it now, but someone needs to get to the scene, and that someone is you."

"On it, boss!" Gus gave a small salute as she pulled out her phone.

"Broussard, you are good working with Flack, right?"

"Of course, Cap, why wouldn't I be?" Gus said with a broad but fake smile as she pulled up Flack's number.

"Damn it Flack, pick up your phone!" Gus swore as it rang unanswered yet again as she pulled the car to the curb. She was hoping to get him to meet her at the precinct, since driving in Manhattan was pure torture for her.

"Flack!" he gruffly answered finally.

"Rise and shine, blue eyes, we got a call already, and yes I know our shift hasn't started but it is right around the corner and Loo put us on it. Sending you a photo from the tip line now."

"Sure, send it."

Gus tried to not sigh at his distracted tone and was also trying to ignore the music playing the background along with a voice she was sure belonged to Angell. "See you as soon as you can get here, I'm here and going in now."

Gus entered the theater company, happy to see that uniforms had already secured the scene with tape and were keeping people out of the studio.

"Detective?" the uniform asked, seeing her shield.

"Broussard. Thanks for securing the scene, did anyone actually fine the body or just the show off who emailed it to the tip line?"

"Had to get the security guard to let us in, but he just sits at the front desk, doesn't make rounds, got here at 8am, but said people don't start getting in until much later."

"Yeah, theater folks tend to keep much later hours. Thanks for securing the scene." Gus peered over the crime scene tape, realizing she had forgotten foot covers in the car. It had been a while since she had been on an active scene. "I'm going to call the crime lab and then got have a chat with the security guard. Detective Flack should be here soon, but until then, no one in. Got it?"

"Yes Ma'am," the uniform answered.

Gus guessed he was barely off probationary period. "Officer Wilson, word of advice, don't call me ma'am."

She didn't get much from the guard other than the identity of the victim before Flack arrived. "Hey, sorry to bug you so early, I just was already in the pit when the photo came in and, well, lucky us."

"Sunshine, stop being so punctual. What's the story?"

Gus gave Flack a quick rundown and they walked the scene until crime techs arrived to start processing. They were briefing Mac before anyone came in to the theater.

"Hey, this is my theater, what's going on?" a man said from the doorway.

"And you are?" Gus asked, striding over to the crime scene.

The man looked Gus up and down, leering at her. She cocked a hand on her hip right over her gun.

"James Copeland, as I said, this is my theater, and that's Marshall, what happened?" He attempted to push past her, and Gus noticed a crowd starting to gather behind him.

Flack moved beside her, noticing how the other man was still leering at Gus. He gestured with his chin, "why don't you talk to the theater people, you speak fancy and Mac and I will have a nice chat with Mr. Copeland here."

"Fine," Gus replied, happy to have an excuse to remove herself from Copeland's reptilian stare.

Gus didn't get much from the theater company folk, most of them had been at the party after the rehearsal the night before. Having gone to a school with a large musical department, Gus knew that people in the business worked hard and partied harder when rehearsing for a show. The only thing she was really able to glean was that Marshall Baxter was not very well regarded.

"He was a complete sleaze and he didn't know what he was talking about., tried to tell me I would be better for Elvira, when I have played Anna like a million times. Like insulting me would get me to sleep with him!" the soprano Gus was interviewing simpered in her dressing room.

Interviews went on like this for hours, leaving Gus frustrated and starving. She met back up with Flack. "Anything?" she sighed.

"Nope, gotta wait on the geek squad, as usual. You?"

"Yeah, the fat lady may have sung on Baxter, but there won't be any mourning songbirds at his funeral. Most common descriptor of the guy was douche or creeper." Gus flipped through her notebook, blushing as her stomach let out a large growl.

"Have you eaten yet?" Flack asked with a smirk.

"I was trying when Daddino gave us this," she gestured toward the now empty crime scene. "What about Copeland?"

"Tussled with the vic over parking, otherwise about the same, creeper douche. How about we get you food, wait on autopsy and then head over to the vic's apartment?"

"Sounds great, but you are so driving the rest of the day."

"Still haven't learned to love driving in the city?"

"Not gonna happen, Flack."

Somewhat saitied, with nothing but confusing results from autopsy and the lab, they met Hawkes at the vic's apartment.

"Jesus, he needed a maid," Gus remarked as they opened the door and surveyed the mess.

"He was a bit of pack rat," Hawkes remarked.

Flack smirked, "think this is bad you should see Adam's place!" He made a face.

Gus picked up a wine bottle, "Adam doesn't drink wine, and he throws his take out containers away."

"How do you know-" Flack cut himself off, realizing he was about to sound like a jealous ex, even if that was what he was feeling like.

Hawkes shook his head and went toward the bedroom. Gus rolled her eyes and turned to the coffee table covered in papers and debris. A few minutes later she heard Flack say to Hawkes, "did you find something?" She wandered into Baxter's bedroom to find the pair looking at a box full of what appeared to be survillance photos.

"Looks like he wasn't just a creeper," she remarked.

"It looks like he was a stalker and these were his victims." Hawkes suppressed a shudder.

Flack raised his eyebrows, "let's go run him through the system, see if anyone reported him.

"Definite creeper," Gus remarked from her desk a while later. Flack walked over, standing behind her. "He has a record, in Rhode Island, that's why it took so long. Aggravate assault, criminal contempt. Plus a juvy record. Want me to see if I can get a hold of it?"

"Yeah, I'll try to catch up with Hawkes."

It was forever before Gus was able to get anything from the Providence PD, "got the id on the complainant but no dice tonight on the juvy record. Woman's name is Carrie Langdon."

Flack looked up from his files, a furrow on his head. "Possible she's our killer?"

Gus shook her head, "not unless she came back from the grave, she committed suicide six months ago. Brother is now suing the PPD." She sighed, perching on the edge of Flack's desk, rubbing her neck.

"You okay?" he asked, looking at her with concern.

"Yeah fine, just forgot what it was like to be back on an active case. Plus, I can't really say I am feeling bad about Baxter not being around to stalk anyone else." She shrugged, feeling worn.

Flack tapped his pen against his desk. "It remind you of Muller?"

Gus rolled her eyes, "no Flack, it does not remind me of Muller. Or at least it hadn't until you brought it up. Yes, I was stalked, that's what I get for even talking to a full of himself attorney and that was handled, well however Mac handled it and not once did I ever think of taking a swan dive off the roof because someone thought I was the bees knees and couldn't take no for an answer. I would have shot him myself before I would have let him get to me."

"Fine, but if it starts to get to you, just let me know and we can pass-"

"Flack, I will not pass my first active case off to someone else! What is eating at you?"

"Hawkes seemed pretty shaken up about it, wants to know everything the second we know and he kept talking about Kara and it made me think if it was bugging him this much maybe you..." he trailed off and shrugged.

Gus slid off the desk and gave his shoulder a squeeze, "I'm fine, sugar, now how about I go find Hawkes and tell him what we found out?"

"Yeah, go do that. How about first thing we head up there and talk to the brother and maybe see if we can get that juvy record unsealed?"

"Sounds like a plan. See you in the morning," Gus patted Flack on the back before walking away. She paused halfway to the elevator before turning to look over her shoulder at him. "And Flack, thanks for worrying about me." With that, she strode purposefully toward the elevator and the crime lab.

* * *

**Chapter 64: Crazy 'Bout Ya**

Gus slumped down to the car waiting at the curb early the next morning. She was exhausted, not having slept well, her dreams anxiety filled about Muller, who she had been thinking about despite her protestations. "Good Lord, it is way too early!" she yawned getting into Flack's car.

"Whining already about being back on active, sunshine?" Flack asked with a smirk.

"No, just remarking on this gorgeous sunrise," she pouted, pulling on her seat belt as he pulled away form the curb.

Flack gestured toward the to a cup steaming in the holder. "extra large au lait, extra shot with that weird sugar. That is still how you take it, right?"

Gus nodded, "sure is, unless you found coffee with chicory." She reached greedily taking a long drink as Flack pointed that car toward I-95.

They rode in silence for awhile, until Gus couldn't take the silence anymore. "Sorry about dragging you into work early. I didn't know Daddino was going to spring this on us.

Flack raised his eyebrows, "no big deal, it's the job, right? New rotation had to start some time. Jess was less pissed than the night you ruined my shirt and I missed all her calls because I was at your place."

A low growl sounded in Gus' throat and she slumped against the door, petulant.

Flack mentally kicked himself but tried to play it off. "What, whadisay?"

She turned to him, narrowing her eyes, "we are like what, 15 hours into our rotation together and you have already broken the one, ONE rule I had, Flack!" Gus threw her hands up in frustration, wincing as they contacted the hard metal of the roof.

Flack tried to not laugh, knowing it was the worst possible move. "Sorry, sorry, I just, forgot, it's just it's easy being partnered with you but it's hard not-" he let out his own growl of frustration, weaving around a slow moving car and gunning the engine.

They heaved simultaneous sighs and couldn't help but nervously laugh.

"Well this is going to be a long drive," Flack said finally.

"Pretty much," Gus replied, crushing her now empty cup.

They continued their trek in an even more tense silence, Flack being the one to finally break the silence this time. "Gus, I really am sorry."

Gus was still pouting in her corner, but couldn't help but concede. "I know you are, Don, I'm just a sore loser."

"You aren't a loser, sunshine," he attempted to placate.

Gus held her palm up toward him, "just don't, okay, don't be...you."

"Who do you want me to be then?" Flack rolled his eyes, hating the tension between them, but also at a loss as to how to make things right other than to just forget the past almost year had occurred, and that wasn't fair to anyone.

Gus could only sigh and think to herself, "mine." She pursed her lips finally coming out with, "Jess was pissed about the shirt, huh?"

Flack cleared his throat, "I think it was more about you than the shirt. But I thought we weren't talking about this?" he teased gently. Gus shot him a look. "I was just sayin'. Yeah, she wanted to make sure I had you and I quote 'out of my system'. Fun conversation that one was."

Gus breathed in a long intake of air, torn between asking if he did, in fact, have her out of his system and not wanting to know.

Flack slid his eyes towards her while trying to keep focused on traffic up ahead. "She also wanted to know why you hadn't been crying on Adam's shoulder."

"Adam? Ross? Why would I be..." Gus dropped her head to her hands, shaking it as she realized what Flack was asking and what clearly more than one person had been thinking. She finally looked up, her eyes flashing. "Adam and I are just friends, okay? He's been through a lot and he was the only person who damn well would talk to me when I was in New Orleans and he was the only person who actually gave a shit about me when I was in the hospital, so yes, I happen to spend sometime with the ONE person who cares about me but that doesn't mean I am sleeping with him so you can just pass that along to your precious Angell and anyone else who is wondering about my sex life, okay?"

"Okay, sunshine, Jesus."

"Do not sunshine me, Don, you don't get to do that anymore!" Gus protested.

"Are we going to argue all the way to Providence and for the rest of this rotation," Flack paused dramatically, "Detective Broussard?"

"Yes we are if you keep being infuriating!" Gus crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl.

"I am not being infuriating, I was simply, damn it, I don't know what I was doing, but I wasn't trying to piss you off. Maybe this was a dumb idea, partnering back up." Flack maneuvered around cars until they were clear in the left lane and press the accelerator before setting the cruise control.

Gus uncrossed her arms and reached out for Flack's arm. "No it wasn't, it isn't a bad idea, I just can't handle hearing about you being blissful with little Miss Perfect anymore than I can handle any more rumors about my love life, no matter how much Lindsay tells me I need to get laid."

Flack tried to choke back a laugh, "I don't even know where to start with that, sunshi- Gus, really."

"So don't, let's just drop it, okay? Though I am sorry if my meltdown caused you any problems with Jess. I do want you to be happy," she paused to make a face followed by a wry smile, "even if it isn't with me."

"You are impossible," Flack retorted, turning to look at her.

"Eyes on the road, mister."

He turned back, keeping quiet for a couple of miles before diving back in. "Lindsay says you need to get laid, huh? Hard to believe such a purdy Southern Belle doesn't have more suitors than a prom queen."

Flack's horrendous accent made Gus cringe and laugh at the same time. "Harder than you think to find ones that aren't criminals or taken. Or both," she tacked on with a smile.

* * *

The awkwardness subsided enough that they continued the journey by keeping their talk confined mostly to work, specifically the case, though some of the talk did veer off into concern over Sheldon.

"He just seems to be taking it to heart, maybe he should step down," Flack suggested.

"I don't think he should, he might not have been able to help Kara, but it doesn't really look like Baxter was really that much of a victim."

"Pretty sure it is his body down on Sid's table, Gus."

"You know what I mean, Flack, he isn't exactly an alter boy is all I am saying. Now what about Carrie's brother, what's your take?"

"I think we are about to find out, this is his building," Flack said, pulling in front of a well appointed high rise.

"Nice digs," Gus said, looking up as she got out of the car, "you want to take this one?"

"If you want," Flack said, giving her a long look, surprised she was taking the back seat but not wanting to push anything given their earlier argument.

Gus sat fairly quietly after they were shown into the apartment, letting Flack take the lead on the interview. She spent the majority of the time feeling bad for Langdon. She was pretty sure he had nothing to do with Baxter's death and was crushed under the weight of guilt of his sister's suicide. She didn't blame him for feeling like it was murder or for suing the PPD. She had learned in her work with SVD and through her own issues with Muller that the issue was not with the department, but more with the system over all. And that left all victims feeling completely powerless. Flack finished up the interview as Langdon cut them off, showing them to the door after giving his alibi and directing them to his lawyer. Flack gave a final show of empathy in mentioning his sister, and Gus could see thought about Sam weighed heavily on his shoulders. She wondered what else she had missed in his life and felt the distance between them once again.

Gus gently squeezed Flack arm and motioned towards the hallway behind Langdon's form filling the doorway. Flack gave a slight nod and exited, understanding that Gus wanted a minute alone. "Mr. Langdon, this isn't your fault, you do know that, right?"Gus asked, looking at the man with wide eyes.

"I am quite aware of whose fault it is, Detective," Langdon sneered.

Gus nodded. "We have to do our jobs, Mr. Langdon, you understand that, but I've been in your sister's shoes and know how hopeless such a situation can seem, and I also know that people that love you will do anything to protect you, anything! So you have to understand why it is not unreasonable to think..." Gus trailed off with a shrug.

"I would have killed him, if I knew where he was and had the chance, but I didn't and I am not going to lose any sleep over his death either. If that makes me a bad person, so be it. Have a safe drive back to the city, Detective. And I am sorry if you ever had to go through a fraction of what Carrie did."

They wordlessly got back in the car and on the interstate. "That sucked," Gus said finally as they sped back toward the city.

Flack smacked the steering wheel. "Damn it did, I was hoping he had done it!"

"He didn't," Gus sighed.

Flack scowled, "I know, but where does that leave us?"

Gus scrolled through her phone, "Lab found the other complainant. Dana Melton. In Boston."

"Should I be pointing the car more North?" Flack rolled his eyes.

"Nah, Danny says BPD has everything digital, they are getting the files to listen to now and see where it gets them. But for right now, I guess we are back to square one. Joy." Gus slumped against the seat, exhausted.

"You okay?" Flack asked, genuinely concerned.

Gus nodded, her eyes still closed, "I didn't sleep very well last night. You called it, I was thinking about Muller and..." she trailed off, still not opening her eyes.

"How about you catch a few Zs on the way back and I won't take the fast lane?"

Gus turned her head slightly, looking at him briefly with a small smile. "Thanks, Flack, and I'm sorry for earlier."

"I know, Gus, we just need some time. Now get some sleep, okay?" He gave her hand a slight squeeze, before returning it to the steering wheel.

* * *

"Hey, Gus, wake up, we're back and you are drooling on the glass."

Gus woke with a start, realizing Flack had been shaking her. "Who? What?" She wiped her cheek and realized with a blush that he hadn't been lying about the drool on the window. "Crap, guess I need to clean that."

"No worries, I'll get a boot to do it, we gotta get in and try to track down this Dana Melton, BPD can't track her down."

Gus tried to clear her head, "Baxter's other vic?"

"Yeah, she rabbited," Flack shrugged, coming around and opening the door for her.

"Can't blame her, can you, Flack?" Gus asked, climbing out of the car and stretching. She caught Flack's eyes following her form and as soon as they set upon his, he looked away, suddenly extremely interested in a small scratch on the rear door.

Some time later, frustrated by the lack of leads on Dana Melton in any database, Gus threw down her pen in frustration. "She is like a ghost!" she cried in frustration, startling Parker across the way who was nose down in DB-5s.

"Chill out Broussard, Hawkes got a lead on her apartment. Let's roll there now with him and Mac."

"This is a sweet place for person with no bank records," Gus remarked as they pulled up to the building at a pricey address.

"Nice security too," Flack said, flashing his badge to the doorman and nodding at Mac and Sheldon who were already waiting.

"She's going by Odessa, building manager is coming with the keys now," Mac said after greeting them. He tried to not be concerned with his niece's worn appearance, wondering if she was really ready to be back on active cases or handling being partnered back with Don very well.

"Here we go, Vanessa Shaw apartment 805." He escorted them up to the eighth floor, pointing out the security features of the building, including the doorman and extra deadbolts, which he opened with a variety of keys after they knocked to no answer.

None of them were surprised to see the apartment empty, except for the building manager, who could only remark that her mail had been piling up.

"I'll go talk to the doorman," Flack grumbled.

"I'll check the neighbors, though if she kept to herself," Gus shrugged and went next door.

Back in the lobby, she met up with Flack. "Anything?" he asked. She shook her head. "Me neither. This woman is awfully good at disappearing."

"Once again, can you blame her?"

"No, but that doesn't change the fact that it is looking more and more like she is our killer. Stella recognized her voice from that lecture that was basically how to foil the cops 101, Baxter was stalking her, followed her here and boom he just ends up dead with the same weirdness of the crime scene as Stella's lecture? Not buying that coincidence, sunshine."

"Boom? I'm telling Danny you stole his line. Now can we get some food on the way back to the precinct or do they need us here?" Gus asked, ignoring the use of sunshine.

"Nah, Stella's trying to track down her dry cleaner and Mac and Hawkes are working on her moving company, we just have to get started on the paperwork. I don't guess you are still willing to do all the paperwork?" He flashed her a grin.

Gus rolled her eyes, "I might be cheap, Flack, but I'm not free. You're picking up the check for dinner and I'll do the paperwork. This time."

They had finished dinner and Gus was working on the paperwork when Mac and Sheldon returned to the precinct, Dana Melton in cuffs. Mac was glowering at Sheldon, who was carefully leading Dana towards booking. Flack came over to her desk shaking his head. "Looks like that didn't go so well."

Gus caught Sheldon's eyes and the corner of his mouth turned up. "For Mac, I'm guessing. Why don't you head home, I've got this."

Flack looked at her, "you sure, you good?"

"I'm fine, Don. You let me sleep in the car and Muller is dead, I was being silly earlier. Go, I am sure Ang-, I'm sure you have better places to be. See you next shift."

"okay, if you're sure. Take care, Gus."

Flack headed back to his desk, sorting out some things before pulling on his jacket. He looked over at Gus, rapidly typing away on the report. He was trying to not worry about her or let Jess' comment weigh on him, but he was pretty sure he did not have Augusta Broussard out of his system.

* * *

**Chapter 65: Great Wide Open World**

The next week went quiet enough to almost things awkward again between Flack and Gus, though Angell being on watch two meant their paths rarely crossed, making things somewhat easier. It was so quiet in fact that Gus had wandered up to Special Vics with take-out in hand to meet up with Doyle, who was also stuck on watch three this rotation.

"Would have thought being promoted would have gotten you better hours, Jimmy!" Gus remarked in the doorway.

"Only thing it got me was this tiny office and a few more gray hairs. Come on in and take a load off if you can find a spot."

Gus set the bag of food down on his desk and moved a stack of files off one of the chairs. "So you enjoying being the next Lieutenant Fields?"

Doyle lifted a carton out of the bag, happy to see it was Italian and not Chinese. "It is what it is, I suppose. At least I have a great team. Would be better with you on it, homicide still working for you?"

"Are we going to go through this every time I see you, Doyle?" Gus said shaking her head with a smile and reaching for her own container of shrimp diavolo.

Doyle grinned back, "we are until you agree to transfer up here." He tucked into his chicken marsala before continuing, "I'm just ribbing you, kid, hadn't heard from you in a bit, was wondering how things were. Heard about your new rotation partner."

"What did they do, put it in on the freaking intranet? Gus stabbed angrily at her shrimp. "Nah, it's fine, Jimmy. Mostly." She shrugged and kept eating.

"How can you eat that this late and not have raging heartburn the rest of the night?" Doyle watched her devour the spicy dish without even sipping on her water.

"In the genes, sugar, in the genes." She finally paused to take a drink of water. "So what you got going up here?"

"Mostly run of the mill stuff, luckily sexual assaults are declining overall, especially in Manhattan. Heard Brooklyn was swamped, may have to shift someone over there if it keeps up."

"Yet another reason to not live in Brooklyn," Gus replied with gallows humor.

"You Manhattan girls, think the whole city is this one tiny island," Doyle replied, accentuting his Bronx accent.

"I am still a New Orleans girl, Jimmy," she paused as her phone started buzzing. She looked down to see Flack paging her. "Damn it, gotta go, you want the rest of this?" she gestured to her food.

He nodded, "yeah, I'll put in the fridge for later, once I buy some milk."

"Don't be a wimp, Doyle." Gus closed the container and set it on his desk.

"Nice catching up with you Gus, however briefly. I'll get dinner next time, maybe actually outside of the precinct?"

"Sure thing," Gus said, only half paying attention as she tried to decipher the page from Flack.

* * *

"What the hell, Flack, your page made no sense, attorney calls in a crime scene but the body is missing?" Gus asked back in the pit.

Flack helped her with her jacket, "you know what I know. None other than Robert Dunbrook's attorney called Brass to report a break-in at his office that ended with the perp taking a swan dive out the window, Dunbrook calls his son and his lawyer and looks down and poof, the body is gone."

"Gone? How the hell does that happen?"

"That is what we are going to find out."

They got to Dunbrook's office tower, a gaping hole twenty stories up marking the crime scene. Patrol cars marred an otherwise eerily quiet financial district. Flack leaned into Dunbrook hard, but he gave up very little. Gus was about to attempt her feminine charms on him when Mac appeared at the scene. Gus gave her uncle a quizzical look, wondering why he had shown up for a scene, but figured he was treating the whole ordeal as a potential homicide until the evidence proved otherwise. Dunbrook, on the other hand, was perturbed.

Flack and she moved quickly away, attempting to garner more information from Connor Dunbrook, as the son also was the head of security for his father. Gus' best descriptor of Connor was asshole, and she was pretty sure the apple hadn't fallen far from the tree.

"Connor, I get that this is a state of the art system and you take your job of protecting your father very seriously and I know I am not an engineer, but it looks to me like your fancy system didn't work." Gus taped her pen against her notebook.

"Miss, Broussard was it? I never have a problem with my system working but if you grab a drink with me, I can explain to you how my fancy system works." He gave her what Gus was sure was a grin that had gotten him plenty of bed companions but sent chills down her spine.

"Detective, it is Detective Broussard," Gus snapped, grateful for Flack coming up behind her. "Perhaps Detective Flack can better explain what we need from you, Mr. Dunbrook." She gave Flack a look and turned on her heel to where Mac was having a heated discussion with the elder Dunbrook.

None of them were able to get anything out of either Dunbrook, despite protestations of innocence. Danny and Flack both had their disdain for rich people faces on as they left the scene.

"Ugh, I don't like that kid one bit," Gus made a face as they walked away.

Flack pursed his lips, "me neither. One way or another I am getting that information."

Gus looked at her watch. "Give it a couple of hours and I will call Judge Pembrooke to get a subpoena. She despises the _Ledger_ and will happily sign it, but not if I don't let her get her morning run in first."

"Works for me, you guys want to grab some breakfast?" He looked at Gus and Danny.

"You interrupted my dinner, what do you think, Flack? Gus replied.

"I got to get back to the lab with what little evidence we do have," Danny sighed, giving them a slight nod.

"See ya, Messer."

Gus ran down the subpoena, and Flack ran the information down. "This case just keeps getting weirder," he said, running through the logs.

"What now?" Gus asked, looking over his shoulder. "What the hell, Ann Steele, isn't she dead? You have to get this to Mac."

Flack rose, looking down at her. "On my way, can you start running down Dunbrook's financials?"

"Sure, though given all that he owns, it might take me a couple of years," Gus grumbled.

* * *

It took a while, but Gus found a couple of curious things in Dunbrook's financial records, most interestingly that Ann Steele had been on Dunbrook's payroll before her death. She flagged it and shot Flack a text with a note to send it up to the lab. She rubbed at her nearly permanently crossed eyes and went back to the seemingly endless records.

"Thought you could use this," Flack said coming in with a coffee a while later.

"Thanks, I am pretty sure I am going to need a date with a masseuse after this," she rotated her neck, wincing at the knots.

"Just let me run a background check on him first, alright, sunshine?" Flack said, fighting the urge to massage her neck himself.

Gus rolled her eyes, "one time I get locked up with my own cuffs and left in my apartment, one time, Flack! Jesus, this guy owns half of New York," she sighed as the records kept piling in.

"Damn rich people," Flack grumbled.

They both jumped, hearing the shot right outside the precinct. "Crap, Dunbrook was holding a press conference out there," Flack swore as they rushed towards the front door, hands on their holsters. The crush of uniforms made it hard to exit, so much so that the ruckus had dissipated and Mac was leading Dunbrook back inside.

"I think it should be clear to everyone that someone is trying to kill me and not the other way around, so could someone please actually do their jobs?" Dunbrook growled at Flack and Gus as he passed by.

"I kind of wish someone had better aim," Gus grumbled before they went to start pulling surveillance.

"Useless, guess no one thinks we need to watch a police precinct for crimes!" Gus huffed coming in from canvassing the area.

Flack was already back at his desk looking equally frustrated. "Not anything on the electronic feeds either. Looks like we get to play wait on the lab again."

"Oh yay, that is my favorite game. Want to go up there and hover over them until they make some magical connection?"

Flack smirked, "I will tell your uncle you said that."

"And Mac will say it isn't magic it is science."

"Magic or science, we might not have to wait too long. They got an id on the bloody prints at the scene. Looks like they belong to a guy named Johnson, Agent Johnson."

"Agent? A fed?" Gus looked at Flack, her mouth agape.

Flack nodded, "Yeah, Mac's heading over to the field office now, should be a fun chat. Meanwhile we need to track down Agent Johnson. Can you get an APB out on his car?"

"No problem. You want us to sit on his house?" Gus asked.

Flack shook his head, "nah, I'll get some unis to do it, we need sleep."

Gus yawned as if on cue, "I am not going to argue with you. You going to head home or hit the on call room?"

"Home, I hate that on call room, those cots are made of concrete I swear. You want a ride?"

Gus shook her head, "I'm good, could use the walk."

Flack gave her a look, "you are actually going to go home and get some sleep, right, Gus?"

"Yes, Flack, I am, I told you I wasn't going to argue with you on that point. You want to tuck me in and make sure I don't stay up reading under the covers with a flashlight?" She meant it as a light joke, and Flack took it as such until they both realized Angell had come in to the pit behind them and was now staring daggers at both of them. "And that is my cue, see you, Flack," Gus said, hurrying away as Angell pulled Flack around the corner, her brown eyes flashing.

* * *

**Chapter 66: Maggie Don't Two-Step**

Gus woke up, her phone buzzing next to her head. She rubbed her eyes, seeing her uncle's number come up on the screen. She answered, listening as Mac asked about Dunbrook's financial records. "Yeah, I pulled them all, it's a lot of information though Mac, like a LOT. I flagged a couple of things, but nothing panned out. I'll send it right to you."

She yawned and stretched, quickly realizing she was not going to be able to get back to sleep. At least she had gotten a few good hours. She showered and changed, heading back to the precinct as the sun was setting and everyone else was leaving work. Such was the life of a homicide detective.

Gus was attempting to peer into the pit to see if Angell was around without being seen. "You're safe, Princess, Angell got called out hours ago, saved Donnie boy from getting his ear bent," Parker said, coming up behind her. Gus jumped, but quickly thanked Parker for the info. She entered the pit seeing Flack already sitting at his desk.

"You are wearing a different suit, so I think you went home, but did you give me a lecture on sleeping and not do so yourself, Flack?" Gus asked, walking up to his desk.

"I got a couple of hours, all I needed. You look better."

"What are you saying about how I looked before?" Gus teased.

Flack grinned, "nuh-uh, not touching that one with a ten foot pole."

Gus was about to retort when both their phones started buzzing. "Damn it!" they swore in unison as the message popped up on both their phones. "Johnson was in an accident and is asking for Mac, are you freaking kidding me?" Gus yelped.

"Call Mac, let's get out there," Flack said, already pulling on his jacket.

Gus knew from the second they arrived on scene that Johnson wasn't going to make it, but Mac was able to get there in time to speak to the man. She hoped the agent would be able to give them something to help this case make sense. She had felt out of the loop since arriving at the original scene, so much of what was happening involving Dunbrook and old cases had happened while she was out of the loop undercover. "This case sucks!" she said on the way back to the precinct after Agent Johnson had been pronounced dead at the scene after the first responders pulled him from the car.

"All I know is that way too many things are connected and we aren't figuring out much through good old fashioned detective work. Hopefully the lab rats are doing better than us," Flack replied as they pulled around back, "and until then we wait."

"I think I miss my cold cases," Gus whimpered as they waited to hear back from either Mac and the FBI or Stella and the gun that had been found in Dunbrook's office earlier in the day.

"What and miss out on all this excitement?" Flack said sarcastically, gesturing to the empty pit.

"Oh wait, Stella has something for us on the gun!" Gus exclaimed looking at her phone, "she needs us to track down Dunbrook's alibi for the night what's that property clerk's name, Kevin Cross was killed. Apparently she got a ballistics match."

Flack was already on it, looking a little to forward to waking up the media mogul in the middle of the night. Gus felt worse about waking up the poor maid who answered the door and looked like she had just been to bed and smelled mainly of silver polish. Gus knew from Dunbrook's tax returns that his house staff was greatly underpaid and bet from the man's less than winning personality that they were also probably greatly overworked. Dunbrook let his annoyance show clearly with both of them, attempting to threaten both their jobs, but Flack stared him down.

"You might not like his kid, but I can't say I am Dunbrook's biggest fan," Flack said with a scowl as they left empty handed.

"Of course he was over in Connecticut giving a talk at Yale, of course he was and had a million photographs to prove it. I am going back to hating this case now!" Gus grumbled.

Flack couldn't help but laugh, Gus' irritation when cases didn't go their way was something he still found more than a little endearing. She had this innate belief that good should always persevere over evil in everyone else's world except her own. Despite her misconceptions that her own life would always be riddled with bad things, Gus had an eternal optimism for the good guy always winning when it mattered. Flack believed that this, however misguided, was what gave her seemingly endless drive on cases, how else could anyone explain all the hours she clocked in New Orleans?

"Are you laughing at me, Flack, are you really laughing at me right now?" Gus scowled at him across the car.

Flack had to close his eyes in order to not lean across the front seat and kiss the scowl off her face. Nope, definitely not out of his system, despite Jess' earful earlier. To say she wasn't happy with him having anything to do with Gus was a massive understatement. Why couldn't he just have a nice normal relationship with just one calm and simple girl?

"Once you are done with your solo vacation over there, can we get back to the precinct?" Gus grumbled, wondering why Flack was shaking his head.

"More useless leads, more useless paperwork, more useless waiting around," Gus grumbled at her desk.

"Why is it you call her sunshine again, Flack?" Parker shot across the pit.

"I know what I'm going to start calling you, Parker!" Gus growled, hating feeling useless.

Flack sauntered over, "I'll show you why, Parker. Hey Gus, guess what?"

"What, Flack?" Gus glowered.

"Lab looked a little closer at that DNA they found on the gun. Turns out it belonged to your favorite Dunbrook asshole, Connor and guess who just got a copy of the warrant for his arrest?" Flack held up his phone.

"Connor, it was Connor? I knew I didn't like that weasel! Can I please be the one to cuff him, Flack, maybe he'll resist arrest or make some nasty little comment and I'll just have to-" she stopped when she realized both Parker and Flack were looking at her with smiles on their faces over how much her demeanor had changed, and despite the less than pleasant topic, Gus had lit up like sunshine with excitement. "Are you two laughing at me?" she squeaked.

"Nope, wouldn't dare laugh at you Princess, I've seen your left hook," Parker replied.

"Come on, Gus, and yes, you can cuff him, but don't forget to Mirandize him first."

* * *

Clearly coached by his father or his father's attorney, Connor Dunbrook didn't resist when they showed up at the Dunbrook offices right as the work day was starting. Gus served the warrant for Connor's arrest, while Flack and a team of uniforms served the warrant to search for the much lauded flash drive Gus had been hearing about for months. Judging by Flack's expression, it still wasn't found. Mac showed up to have it out with Dunbrook, determined to uncover all the man's nefarious secrets. Connor was well behaved until it came time to walk out, when he made some pat remark about wanting to be cuffed to Gus. The fire in her eyes was enough to Flack to take over for the remainder of the perp walk. He escorted Connor to booking, leaving Gus to her usual task of paperwork, which was what she was finishing up when none other than Jessica Angell came in and stood over her desk.

"We should talk," the brunette beauty said, leaving little room for argument in her tone.

"Sure, but maybe, um, in the locker room?" Gus said, looking around and realizing several other detectives were looking at them like they were waiting for the women to dive into a pool full of jello.

Angell nodded, striding off, leading in such a way that Gus knew the other woman was attempting to assert dominance. Gus was willing to concede, hoping to ratchet down the fury and annoyance clearly radiating off her slender body.

Angell entered the locker room, slamming the door open with both her palms, waiting for Gus to enter. Gus did so, debating if she should sit on the wooden bench or stand. She decided to remain standing as Angell waited until the door closed and stood in front of it, arms crossed and blocking the exit.

"You probably shouldn't shank me in the middle of a police station, Jess," Gus attempted to joke. Gus merely got an eye slit in return.

"You can't just swoop back in and get him back like nothing happened, you know!" Angell protested.

"I am guessing this is about Flack?" Gus asked sheepishly, moving back a couple of steps until she ran into the row of lockers.

"Don, it is about Don, and how you are still in love with him, don't think I don't know it, it is so obvious!" Angell took a step forward, gesturing with her finger but stopping short of being menacing.

"Yes, Jess, I still love Don, as I did in fact inform him. However I am well aware, darling, that that ship had done sailed and he is with you now." Gus crossed her arms across her chest, even though she knew it made her look uncomfortable and defensive.

Angell narrowed her eyes again, but dropped her hands to fists at her sides. She wasn't quite sure what Gus meant, all she knew was that she was tired of her seeing her...well whatever Don was they weren't really putting labels onto things at this point...seeing the way he looked at Gus like she was the only woman in the world or seeing how seamless and easy their interactions could be despite the fact that the other woman had broken his heart. Jess had been quiet in her approach to Don, reaching out to him as a friend and fellow detective first, working diligently to keep things light and drama free. She wouldn't say she set out to ensnare the tall, handsome detective, but she certainly hadn't missed a single golden opportunity either.

"I was there for him when you ran back to your precious New Orleans and he could barely get out of bed. I was the one who helped him find a new apartment on short notice because he couldn't handle waking up in your place without you in it. I was the one, because his best friend was recovering from being tortured in a warehouse and the woman who supposedly loved him left him for a broken city." Angell closed the distance between them, leaving Gus nowhere to go except to press against the lockers.

Gus was tempted to lash out, but she knew this was a long time coming and she also felt not so deep down that she deserved this. "I am glad you were there for him, Jess, I really am."

Some of Jess' anger subsided as Gus didn't react the way she was expecting. She stepped back slightly. "Yes, I was, I was there when Don was at his most vulnerable, but I didn't move in, I knew he wasn't ready to get into another relationship, I didn't know if you were coming back or not. I wasn't about to move in on him because he belonged to someone else. I didn't go after him, and what is going on between us is happening because it is what we both want and I am just asking that you don't try to come in and split us up before we even really have a chance to get together." She looked at Gus, on equal eye level with the other woman.

Gus looked back, too many thoughts and emotions swirling in her mind. She did still love Don and spent many waking moments trying to figure out if she would ever get him back or if she even deserved to. One thing Gus knew was that she didn't want Don back if there was even the slightest chance he would be wondering 'what if' regarding Jess.

"Hey, Maggie don't two step, okay?" Gus finally replied, holding her palms up in innocence, "I am not going to move back in on Don, you are more than welcome to him alright? But that being said, he is a grown man who gets to make his own decisions on who he wants to be with. If he is he is happy with you then I am happy for him, just keep making him happy Jess, you hurt him and all bets are off, you hear me?" She shot the other woman a warning look.

Angell held her chin up an inch higher, "that's rich coming from you, I could never hurt him like you did."

Gus was wounded by the truth in this statement, she sighed heavily. "I truly hope nobody ever will again, he was the last person on the planet to deserve what I did to him, and that's my burden to bear. Regardless, we all need to work together as professionals. I am trying damn hard to be a good cop and a good partner to whomever I happen to be working with on any rotation, but that is it, professional partners, end of story. I suggest at work, you do the same."

"Don't talk to me about being a professional, Broussard, your personnel file probably has its own drawer. I know how to act at work, how about I worry about me and you worry about you?" With that Angell shot Gus one more glare and stormed out of the locker room.

"Well that's just great," Gus sighed, taking a minute to gather herself before heading home.


	15. The Ballad of Cowboy Mouth

**Chapter 67: The Avenue**

Gus spent the next couple of days ruminating over her discussion with Angell, vacillating between proud that she had remained relatively calm and kicking herself for not fighting to get Flack back. She was on edge to say the least, Flack asking her over and over again what was happening with her, but she blew him off every time, figuring Angell must not have said anything to him about their little chat. Lack of active cases was giving her too much time to think, so she attempted to look over a couple of more cold cases even though she didn't have to.

Finally, one afternoon that announced spring might actually be there, she had active work to get her mind off hadn't even had a chance to make it to her desk, was just about to pull her jacket off when her phone started buzzing. It stopped once she looked up and saw Flack coming towards her.

"Afternoon, Gus, we gotta go," he said, twirling the car keys around his finger.

"About time, hot damn!" Gus exclaimed, "where to?"

Flack rushed them to the car, "Madison Avenue auction house, apparently guy came out in the middle of bidding and dropped dead in the aisle. I know they say competition at auctions is fierce, but come on!"

Gus groaned at Flack's wit as they weaved over to the auction house. Uniforms had secured the scene and the EMTs were leaving, pronouncing the vic dead at the scene. Gus looked around at the remains of the high priced jewelry auction and whistled. "Lawdy, lawdy, look at this ice. Wonder how many fat cats we'll have to listen to whine about how they don't have time to talk to us?" Gus drawled, flipping through an auction catalog.

"Not many, I'm afraid, though we prefer to call them clients, detective," a well appointed man said, coming up to them. "Felix Marshall, this is my auction house. Dreadful, dreadful day."

"Indeed," Flack snarked over Gus' shoulder.

Felix cleared his throat, "anyhow, most of the clients left as soon as poor Xander dropped, thought perhaps it was some sort of robbery. I was too busy calling 911 to try to keep any of them here. It has been chaos since. How long until this mess is cleaned up?"

Flack and Gus exchanged a look. "Until it is no longer an active crime scene, sir," Gus said, her voice on edge.

"Now this Xander, he work for you or was he a fat cat, I mean client?" Flack asked, flipping open his notebook with force.

Felix nodded, "yes, Xander Greene, one of my best appraisers. As I said, dreadful-"

Gus interrupted him, "dreadful day, we got it, now how about you give me a list of everyone that was here today and we can work on this chaos." Gus wandered off with Felix as Flack went to go join Mac and Hawkes by the body.

"Got the list, scary long as it is. Uniforms talking to the few people that stuck around. What about you?" Gus asked as Flack hung up his phone.

"Xander was nice enough to be making a phone call when he got offed, running down his phone records now, waiting on a subpoena now."

"You want me to go get it?" Gus asked, continuing to flip through the list.

"Nah, I got it, looks like you are going to be busy with some phone calls," Flack raised his eyebrows and pointed at the sheaf of papers in her hand.

Gus groaned, "are you telling me I am going to have to call all these people by myself?"

"You know how to play nice with Richie Rich better than me, sunshine. Get a boot to help you, now I gotta go get this subpoena, I'll drop you back off at the precinct on the way."

Gus spent hours on the phone trying to track down information from those with enough disposable income to attend an auction where the minimum bids were a 100K. What none of them seemed to have was disposable time. She received more than her share of curt hangups and more attitude than a debutante ball. She decided to head up to the lab for a coffee break and to see what had become of the scene and the phone call Xander had been on. Waiting on the elevator she was almost run over by a bleary eyes looking Sheldon, exiting in a rush on his phone. She was curious as to why he had changed into a suit.

"No, I need the next flight, yes to DTW, I don't care how much, yes, yes, no, yes!" He brushed past Gus without even looking up, heading for the door of the precinct. Gus changed her course and followed after him, it was clear that something major had happened to her friend.

"Shel, what is it?" she asked as she found him slumped against the building.

He looked at her with tears in his eyes, "it's my uncle, Gus, he just died of a heart attack and I am trying to get on the next flight out of here and I just found out it is delayed three hours."

"Oh, Shelly, I'm so sorry, I know how much you loved him, Frank, right?" Sheldon nodded, unable to speak and Gus pulled him in for a hug. "I'm sorry, sugar, can I do anything?"

Sheldon drew away, wiping his eyes, "no, but thanks. I just need to find some way to not go crazy waiting on my flight."

"I was just about to head up to the lab to see if Danny had gotten anything from that phone call, I needed a break from getting hung up on by rich people, you wanna come?"

"I just came from there, he was talking with Mac and running the voice mail file, but sure, work will at least give me something to focus on."

* * *

This time, Gus actually made it up the elevator, when Danny almost bowled her over entering the elevator from the lab floor.

Danny looked at Sheldon quizzically, "I thought you were leaving."

"Flight is delayed. Though work would be better than sitting in an airport."

"I'm going to get some coffee, you get anything on the phone call?" Gus asked, looking at Danny.

He nodded, "yeah, was about to go talk to the guy now." Danny shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking more twitchy than usual. Gus wondered what was going on, but decided to not press him if he wasn't giving out information. She shook her head, "alright then, coffee awaits. If you need anything, day or night, Shel, call me." She gave Sheldon one more quick squeeze and a peck on the cheek before turning for coffee, the sound of Sheldon pressing Danny for information following her down the hall.

Gus wandered around to try to see if the lab had anymore luck with the crime scene than she had with phone calls. She tracked no one down except Adam who told her about the murder weapon seemingly being an old gun while she had a brief tussle with the cappuccino machine.

"It's just so weird, Gus, he had a bullet wound and a stab wound, that's total overkill right?"

"Maybe someone really didn't like him?" Gus suggested, sipping on her coffee and wincing as it burned her mouth.

Adam laughed at her, "you need a lesson on how to work that machine."

"At least I learned to make sure it was plugged in," she shot back.

Adam smiled, hesitating slightly. "Hey, uh, Gus, I have a couple of tickets to the Animal Collective show next week, ya wanna go?"

Gus smiled at his sudden nervousness, but thought back to her discussion with Flack on the way to Providence and the implication of her spending time with Adam, she didn't want to string her friend along, even if he was great companionship, something Gus needed right now. "Um, that sounds awesome, Adam, I love them but..." she scratched behind her ear, "wouldn't you rather take a girl that would sleep with you after?" she choked out finally.

Adam turned several shades of crimson and started stammering, "Well, yeah, but I just thought, maybe you might like, you see it's like this, I was in the lab and Danny's cell kept ringing and ringing and it was Lindsay so I picked it up finally because it was like whoa stop ringing I am trying to work here and she and I started talking and I told her I was between girlfriends and why do I keep telling people that and she mentioned that she had talked to you and that you sounded like you needed, well I won't say what she said but she suggested that I maybe...um...call you because, well, yeah, and you are cool and we like the same bands and you don't think I am weird even though I have all these weird things and you are so pretty, like way to pretty for me, I know that but I thought it wouldn't hurt to try because Lindsay-"

Gus tried to take in what all he was saying, finally placing it together. "Adam, are you asking me to the concert because you are trying to sleep with me because Lindsay told you I needed to get laid?"

Adam just stood there looking like he wished the ground would swallow him up. He nodded finally.

"I am going to have to kill my friend. I am going to have to fly to Montana and kill my pregnant friend." Gus crushed her coffee cup slightly, not caring that it was sloshing over the side.

"So it that a no?" Adam stammered, running his hand through his hair.

"It's an excuse me while I go make a phone call and yell for a while!" Gus growled, storming over to the garbage and throwing her coffee away, shaking the rest off her hand.

"okay, well, I'll just clean this up then, tell Lindsay I said hi," Adam said, gesturing to the puddle of coffee before retreating for a mop.

* * *

She stormed back downstairs pulling up short as she saw Danny and Sheldon standing outside an interview room. "Messer, you better tell your wife that it doesn't matter she is about to pop out your demon spawn, I am going to kick her cute little ass from here to Baton Rouge and back!"

Both men turned to stare at her and Gus realized they had been in an intense conversation. She looked into the interview and was surprised to see Flack questioning a familiar face, the Neo-Nazi from the Eco-terrorist case where she had almost gotten blown up with none other than Adam. Feeling as embarrassed as she had left Adam, she cleared her throat, "I'm just going to uh, go help, Flack, interview this scum bag, I mean Elgers.

She entered the room as Flack was pacing, both turned to look at her. Elgers spoke first. "What, you come in to play good cop? Think I'll talk to someone with blonde hair and nice tits? Nice try, but look at you, Brick house, clear someone in your family went down the woodshed." Flack started in from the corner he had retreated to, but Gus cut him off with a look, moving in beside Elgers.

"Excuse me?" she said, standing beside the skinhead, hands on her hips.

Elgers motioned in the air, exaggerating Gus' curves. "Don't get me wrong, you look white enough. Who was it though, your great great grandma get down with a field hand on the family sugar plantation, find her a nice little jungle bunny, or was it more recent, your mother some hippie nigger lover? Either way, it is clear that you got as much junk in your trunk as a top forty ghetto queen."

Flack was at the table in a flash, but not quick enough. Gus reached behind Elgers, smacking him on the back of the head with force and kicking the chair out from underneath him so he went flying face fist into the hard metal of the table. Elgers was up in a flash, looking ready to take a swing at Gus as she was screaming, "you frigginging pig, you talk about my mama or me being fat, we are fighting!"

"I wasn't raised to hit girls, sweetheart, even if they are half-breeds." Elgers righted the chair himself, sitting back down with the grin, "now I really want my lawyer."

"Detective Broussard, take a walk!" Flack ordered, looking at both of them in bewilderment. Gus glared at him, taking in Elgers' bloody nose as she did so.

"Fine," she snarled, almost colliding with Mac as she exited.

"What the hell was that?" Flack yelled as he entered the pit after Mac motioned for him to leave the interview room.

Gus was on her feet in a flash, "that was some asshole getting less than what he deserved, Flack, I know you think he is lower than scum too, I can't believe you are defending him!" She poked him in the chest with her finger.

Flack grabbed her arm and held it, realizing that the entire pit was staring at them. "Not here," he growled under his breath, "but I am not defending him, I am trying to protect you!"

Daddino was already out of his office, glaring at them. "You two, in my office now!"

Gus stormed off, Flack following, slamming the door behind them.

"What is going on out there, are you two starting WWIII?" Daddino roared from behind his desk.

"Some piece of shit skinhead ran his mouth off to Slugger over here and she decided to give him a new seating arrangement and possibly a new nose," Flack hooked his thumb toward Gus, his jaw working overtime.

"He, uh, provoke you, Broussard?"

"That miscreant had that audacity and stupidity to run his mouth off about both my mamma and my ass and he damn well deserved way worse than falling off his chair!" Gus kept her arms across her heaving chest, tapping her foot furiously.

"Anyone else see?" Daddino asked Flack.

Flack shrugged, "think the lighting was bad, interview room two, you know." He looked pointedly at Gus warning her to be quiet with his eyes.

Daddino raised his eyebrows, "yeah, been meaning to get maintenance on that. Flack, keep working this case, you," he pointed at Gus, "clear out of here until you simmer down, take a day or two until I figure out if Brass wants you to take more. Jesus, Broussard, I thought you were finally starting to calm down."

Gus stormed out past Flack, angrily cramming things into her tote bag.

Flack came up behind her, leaning in close. "Gus, come on, he could have given you LWOP or worse."

She spun, not realizing how close he was, her chest pressing into his, heat radiating off both of them, anger and something closer to passion in his blue eyes. Gus jumped back at the tension between them, recalling her conversation with Angell. She knocked into her desk with enough force to knock off her coffee mug, it landing on the floor and breaking. She looked down at the jagged ceramic pieces and back up at Flack, who was reaching out for her. Gus swallowed rapidly, "I have to go, I have to get out of here, I'll get that later," she gestured to the broken mug, grabbing her bag and jacket as she rushed out the door.

* * *

**Chapter 68: The Ballad of Cowboy Mouth**

Gus made it home, shaking the entire walk. She knew she had been out of line with Elgers, but he had the misfortune to be in the wrong place when Gus reached her breaking point between Angell and Flack and Lindsay and Adam and everything else. She laughed as she fixed a drink, Lindsay probably was right, she did need to get laid. But Adam? He was cute and sweet but she looked at him more like he was Reed than a potential bed mate. Not that she doubted he wouldn't get the job done, but she also guessed that if she went down that road, it wouldn't be a one off thing. Despite her pregnancy hormones, Lindsay had meant what she said, Gus needed to get laid, not have a relationship. Speaking of which, she hadn't given her friend a piece of her mind yet. She looked at the clock, calculating the time difference before dialing Lindsay's number.

"If you are calling about Danny, I already know about his suspension," Lindsay said after answering.

"His what?" Gus shouted.

"I take it you didn't know? He apparently made some Neo-Nazi well acquainted with the pavement when picking him up for questioning."

"Seems to be going around,"Gus mumbled, "he got suspended for that?" Gus had a sinking feeling that she would be taking more than one or two days off whether she liked it or not.

"Two weeks, no pay, not exactly what we need with a baby on the way, but you know Danny, can't stand a bully. At least I will be home in a week and we can spend some time together before the baby gets here," Lindsay sighed.

Gus made a noise. "Silver lining, I guess. Actually I was calling because I am pretty sure Adam tried to proposition me today on your suggestion and let's just say that combined with my lovely little chat with Angell the other day where she cornered me in the locker room resulted in a very bad no good evening for me. Hence why I am calling you from home when I am supposed to still be on shift."

"Propositioned you? I simply suggested to him that you might be a little lonely and thus a little, er, amorous so if he saw the change he should carpe diem."

"But it is Adam, Lindsay!" Gus protested.

"What is wrong with Adam, he is sweet and caring and I have heard some of things he has said about some of the girls he has dated and they sound wild I was just thinking you deserved a little fun," Lindsay shot back.

Gus sighed heavily, "oh Linds, that is sweet, I think, but you know Adam, he can get like a puppy and I don't need anything following me around. I want to ruffle his hair and remind him to eat is vegetables!"

"Fine, not Adam, I hope you let him down gently, though Gus, in case you ever change your mind. I still stand by you needing to get laid though. Who else you got?"

Gus tried to not growl at her friend, thankful when her other line buzzed in, Daddino calling, probably to give her more punishment. "Gotta go, Linds, I think I am about to have the same fate visited me as your husband."

"Suspension? What did you do to Adam?"

"Not Adam, the Neo-Nazi," Gus huffed.

Lindsay made a small squeak, "oh, I see. Well, maybe you can make sure Danny remembers to at least take a shower daily until I get back, and maybe occasionally eats something green."

"Look at you already in mom mode, talk to you later Lindsay, miss you," Gus clicked off, taking her lumps from Daddino. Two weeks at least with pay, so better than Danny, but she was also required to go back to Dr. Lyons for anger management sessions. She would rather the no pay.

Gus had to reluctantly admit that a couple of sessions with Dr. Lyons did her some good. She had a chance to air out what happened between her and Angell and how she was struggling with her feelings and partnering with Flack. She also talked her desire to be with him but not wanting to ruin his happiness with Angell and Lyons pointed out that Gus seemed to be punishing herself still.

"Don't I deserve punishment?" she asked, tearing up a tissue.

"Continuing to punish yourself isn't going to erase the past, it only seems to be making things worse. What I think you need is the ability to step back and gain some perspective on what you want and need."

"Just how am I supposed to do that, oh wise one?"

Lyons smiled, "you know I can't tell you what to do, Augusta, but you might want to listen to that pregnant friend of yours."

Gus rolled her eyes, "so you are saying I need to get laid too, what doctor's orders?"

"Just let yourself be for a little bit, make safe choices, but make choices. You can't spend all your time hiding out in your place or working, that isn't you, and it can't make you happy. Get out there and live a little, those are my orders."

* * *

Gus did as she was told, using her leave to try to reconnect with the people that were most important to her. Except Flack because she was trying to keep space between them why he figured out what was going on with him and Angell and Adam, because she wanted to die of embarrassment when she thought of her last encounter with him. She used her suspension to hang out with Danny like they had many moons ago, their 'sibling' relationship had been somewhat cast aside in recent months with all that had been unfolding in both their lives. Lindsay joked that Gus was Danny's substitute wife after Danny had admitted to Lindsay that Gus had done his laundry and made sure his fridge was stocked with edible food. Gus treasured the time she had with her brotherly like friend, knowing things would change drastically when his daughter was born.

Angell's blossoming friendship with Stella since the Diakos case had slightly strained Gus' friendship with Stella, but Gus used her suspension for a couple of girls nights with the curly haired detective, both of which went a long way toward repairing any damage that had been done. She made sure to check in on Sheldon, who was grieving his uncle's unexpected death, which led her to try to make her own uncle more of a priority in her life, though Mac's obsession with work made that all but impossible. She did track him down at his favorite diner for breakfast one morning, feeling more like a stalker than his niece.

"You deserved more than what you got, Gussie," Mac said as he slid into the booth across from her.

"I know Mac, it wasn't about Elgers, it was about..." she trailed off.

"Flack? If you couldn't handle being partnered with him, you should have told your boss." Mac studied her carefully.

"It's not that, we still manage to be great partners, I am not saying it isn't difficult, but I sort of need that exposure therapy. There are just some...extraneous variables." She raised her eyebrows, not wanting to fill in the blanks.

"I see," Mac said, finally figuring out that Gus was talking about another female homicide detective, he had his concerns about the pair, but he wasn't about to step in. Don wasn't under his direct chain of command and was able to make his own decisions, even if the other man had made his niece as happy and even tempered as he had ever known her to be. "When are you back?"

"Couple of days, later than Danny, but they didn't start me suspension until after I got a couple of sessions in with Dr. Lyons, so now I am also out of comp time." She saw the look Mac was giving her, "I know, I know, I deserve worse, but so did Elgers."

"He is a horrible human being, Gus, but we can't treat him like an animal even if he acts like one."

"Animals back better than he did, but I know what you are saying Uncle Mac, I do. Now can we talk about something else before I lose my appetite?"

* * *

**Chapter 69: Come home a drinkin'**

Gus also agreed to have drink with Doyle, wondering if it might not be a good idea to maintain a friendship with him in case she needed a hasty transfer to another department if things went sideways.

They were chatting over pints at Doyle's favorite pub two nights before she was due back at work when Gus saw a familiar though not entirely welcome face enter the pub.

"Damn, are you kidding me, this suspension was going so well too!" Gus said as she caught sight of none other than Jess Angell coming in their direction. Jimmy Doyle didn't turn, using the mirror instead to see what had Gus' bristling. She had pulled herself ramrod straight and looked like she was preparing for an attack when the pretty brunette stopped by their table.

"Hi, Gus, I didn't know you liked this place."

"Um, yeah, Jess, I mean, no, I mean I didn't really know about it until Jimmy wanted me to meet him here, but it seems like I cool place. You know Lieutenant Doyle right, from Special Vics?"

"Yes, I do, Doyle, how's it going, you playing softball this year?"Angell squared off, towering over the table, attempting to make a connection with Doyle, her eyes sliding over to gauge Gus' reaction. Gus set her jaw, refusing to let any emotion show, but Doyle knew from their work together that Gus was simmering below the surface.

Doyle shook his head, hiding his grin in his beer. Despite their very feminine forms, the women seemed to be on the verge of a cock fight. "Nah, sitting this season out, my shoulder's been off and on."

Angell nodded, looking back and forth between the two of them. "I'm sorry if I was interrupting anything, just wanted to say hello, and I know you are probably glad your suspension is almost over, Gus."

"Not interrupting at all," Gus said, forcing a wide beauty pageant smile, "thank you so much for coming on over, and yes, I can't wait to get back, I'm sure you have been keeping Don in line in my absence." She raised her eyebrows, daring the other woman to stay, a flush creeping up her chest and into her cheeks.

Angell cleared her throat, "oh, look, there are my friends, see you later, have a nice night."

Gus' eyes narrowed as they followed Angell's retreat to the stools at the bar, a growl catching in her throat.

"What was that about?" Doyle asked with a smirk.

Gus shook her head, "nothing."

"You are a really bad liar," Doyle drained his pint.

Gus scoffed, "I am not, I can lie quite convincingly when I put my mind to it. Do you have any idea how much woman have to lie in the South? Oh that circus tent of dress is darling, why yes your inbred baby is the most beautiful thing ever, your dirt tasting pecan pie will surely win first prize." Gus fluttered her eyelashes.

Doyle couldn't help but laugh, "point taken, and once again I am glad I was born and raised in the Bronx, at least there they stabbed you in the front. That still doesn't tell me what that was about."

Gus traced a pattern in the condensation on the table, "we kind of had a talk, it didn't end well for me."

"I see," Doyle replied, even though he didn't, but he knew females well enough to not press the issue, he motioned at her empty pint, "want another?"

Gus nodded with a sigh, trying to center herself. Since their talk Gus had steadfastly been mostly avoiding the other female homicide detective, Gus' suspension a relief in that way. Inevitably, their paths would cross, but Gus was sure they would remain professional, but they weren't about to go out for cocktails anytime soon From what Gus had garnered from others, Angell was working on being able to accept Gus' presence, but Gus knew the other woman was working hard to mark her territory, especially with regards to Flack. Gus wasn't pleased with this, but she did have to admit that she was the one that had let Don slip through her fingers and was at least somewhat content that Don wasn't with some brainless badge bunny.

Doyle returned with two pints and two shots of tequila. "You looked like you could use something stronger."

Gus accepted with a small smile, "thanks, Jimmy."

"Is he falling for her?" Doyle asked as Gus downed her shot. The look on her face gave him his answer, telling him they both know who he was talking about and the sadness in her eyes made him push his shot toward her as well. She took it without hesitation, downing it and wordlessly going to the bar for another round.

She came back, setting more shots on the table, handing one to Doyle, clinking it with one of her own before they both drank them down. She sighed, "can you blame him, look at her, she is freaking perfect, and not crazy!"

Doyle's forehead creased, "she is not perfect and you are not crazy. You've been through a lot and maybe you haven't had the most rational reaction to stress every time, that doesn't mean you are crazy."

Gus took a long drink of her lager, "you sound like my therapist.

"I'll keep that in mind if this Lieutenant thing doesn't work out. What else is your fancy therapist telling you?"

"That I need to stop punishing myself and that I need to get laid," Gus wrinkled her nose before taking another drink.

A grin spread across Doyle's face, "Jesus, maybe I do need to see a shrink."

Gus gave a small snort, "I don't think you need to see a shrink to get laid," she gestured around the pub with her beer, "look around, "this place is crawling with badge bunnies, I will happily be your wing man, wing woman, wing person?" Gus puzzled this out, feeling like her last shot had gone straight to her head, which was why she never shot tequila.

"Not a fan, Broussard, still trying to get over finding myself married and thinking about moving to Hoboken. And she is how I know you aren't crazy, Broussard, she was crazy."

Gus made a face, "Jersey, Jimmy, are you kidding, yes, she was clearly crazy!" Gus fanned herself, "good lord, did they turn on the heat?"

Doyle noticed the flush on Gus' face as she pulled her t-shirt away from her body, trying to move air.

He shook his head in disbelief, he had seen her drink plenty before and heard all about her New Orleans alcohol exploits, but he suddenly realized they all involved whiskey or, frighteningly enough, grain alcohol, never tequila. "Broussard, are you drunk?"

Gus shook her head, "no, tipsy maybe, but not drunk. Maybe four tequila shots on an empty stomach in five minutes wasn't the best idea either. This is why I never drink tequila. I swear they have turned on the dang gummed heat," she drawled, draining her beer in an attempt to cool down.

Doyle was a little worried she was about to strip off her shirt and also noticed Jess Angell staring their way. "Alright, Chiquita, no more tequila for you, let's get you home." He got up, going around to pull Gus out of the booth, looking over his shoulder to give Angell a warning glare. The woman challenged him for a moment before turning back to her friends.

* * *

The cool night air met Gus with a welcome whoosh as soon as they stepped outside. "God that feels good," she remarked still fanning herself, feeling a bit unsteady on her feet.

"So tequila is your kryptonite, huh, kid?" Doyle mused.

"I wouldn't go that far," Gus said, as she gingerly walked to the car, trying to not stumble and look like the idiot she was feeling like, "but I definitely have problems following doctors orders on it."

"Getting laid or not being crazy?" Doyle said teasingly, reaching out to steady her by her elbow.

Gus reached out for the door handle, missing it much to Doyle's amusement. "No, smart ass, making safe choices, of course when I don't it tends to lead to the other two," she paused, taking in his demeanor, "stop laughing at me."

"I am not laughing at you, Gus, just never took you for a lightweight," he opened the door for her, waiting until she had settled in before closing it.

"I am not a lightweight!" she cried through the door, glaring at him when he came around to the driver's side.

"okay, okay, not a lightweight, just tequila sensitive."

"That sounds worse," Gus grumbled.

Doyle pulled up to her building, trying to not laugh as she fought with her seat belt. "You sure you can get up to your place alright?"

Gus nodded, finally freeing herself, "yeah I have an Eduardo."

"What is an Eduardo?" Doyle asked, wondering if she was more inebriated then her realized.

"Night doorman," she replied, matter of fact.

Doyle nodded in compression, "gotcha. So he will help you in and not take advantage of you?" Gus snorted. "Forgot who I was talking to, you won't take advantage of him, right?" Gus waggled her eyebrows, reaching for the door handle. "That's it, I'm taking you to your door."

They made it past Eduardo, who looked like he would probably welcome Gus taking advantage of him and to the elevator before Gus busted out with "how do you know I won't take advantage of you, Jimmy?"

Doyle shook his head, "not going there, Broussard, not with you like this at least. Besides, I'm armed, and I think I can fend off your buck and a quarter without a problem."

Gus laughed, fumbling for her keys as they exited the elevator and arrived at her door. Doyle took them from her, deftly unlocking her door and ushering her inside, shutting the door behind them. He wanted to make sure she had downed some water and ibuprofen before he left and that she wasn't planning on leaving again.

"I sweat to the tiny lord baby Jesus, it is a million degrees in here too," she started to strip off her shirt.

"Um, Gus," Doyle protested.

"Shit, sorry, I'll be right back." She stumbled in what Doyle guessed was the direction of her bedroom, having only been here for her party after she was released from the hospital.

He shook his head, heading to the small kitchen to get them both water, he also spied a bottle of pills on the counter, shaking a couple out for her as well. She was back quickly enough, wearing running shorts and a tank top, piling her hair on top of her head. "Better?" he asked, handing her a glass of water. She nodded, draining the glass in a few swallows and handing it back to him to refill as he was still standing at the sink.

Gus cleared another glass of water, setting it on the counter, before leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. Jimmy what did you mean when you said not with me like this at least?"

Doyle choked on the water he was drinking, nearly dropping the glass in the sink. He didn't think she had caught his statement, and he really didn't think she was in any state to call him on it. "Shit, Gus, I was out of line, I..." he trailed off, running his hand through his sandy hair, feeling embarrassed.

Gus gave him a small smile, somewhat endeared by his embarrassment. "Doyle, stop, forget I asked. You are a good guy and thanks for making sure I got home safe. I won't make a fool of myself the next time you ask me out for a drink, assuming you are willing to."

Doyle moved towards her, though Gus took that as an opportunity to move them both back towards the front door. If he was hurt by this, he didn't show it. Gus sighed inwardly, what was she doing? Was this her just being like Lyons had instructed? If it was, she clearly needed more work than she thought.

"No problem, wouldn't want my future best detective arrest on sexual assault charges, wouldn't look good for my numbers," Doyle said, trying to play things off for them both.

Gus gave him a small but grateful smile as she swung open the door. She chewed on her lip as he moved to leave. "I mean it, Jimmy, you are a good guy, and not just because you think I only weigh a hundred and twenty five pounds."

This brought a genuine smile to Doyle's face. "Good night, Broussard, take care, and lay off the tequila." He held up his hand, palm out saying goodbye, turning to walk away.

Before she knew what she was doing she called after him before he could even take a step away from her door."Hey, Doyle!" He turned, a quizzical look on his face, turning to one of shock as Gus grabbed a handful of his thermal shirt and pulled him in for a heated kiss, "thanks for not liking badge bunnies, see you later," and with that, she retreated into her place, the door closing firmly behind her.


	16. Kiss the Baby

**Chapter 70: Kiss the Baby**

Gus didn't know what to make of her actions, over analyzing every last second of the night for the rest of it. She finally fell into fitful sleep shortly before sunrise and was awakened by the incessant buzzing of herself too few hours later. Praying it wasn't Doyle or worse Flack or Angell, she was relieved to see Lindsay's number pop up on the screen.

"Oh thank God it is you, Linds! I did something stupid, I ran into Angell when I was having a drink with Doyle and it threw me and I hate that she is with Flack but Lyons said I needed to give him space and myself space and everybody keeps telling me I need to get laid so I had these tequila shots and I probably would have slept with Doyle, but he is too much of a freaking gentleman either that or he is repulsed by me, but either way I kissed him and he probably is scared of me now and I can't got to Special Vics even if Jess and Don end up getting married and making a million gorgeous babies and maybe I should have just slept with Adam when I had the chance. I am crazy, aren't I?" Gus finally ran out of steam, "wait, are you back?"

She heard Lindsay groan on the other end of the line. "Yes, yesterday, back in the lab today and everyone seems to be missing, including Danny and my water just broke and the only person I can find to drive me to the hospital is Adam. Adam, can you believe this, this is not what my birthing plan looks like at all!"

Gus gaped at the phone like a fish before responding. "Your water broke at the lab, why did you go back to the lab? Shouldn't you be at home? Never mind, now you should be in the hospital, go get Adam and get him to get a car to take you. But make sure to give him clear, step by step instructions because his ADHD really kicks in when he gets stressed out."

"I am going now," Lindsay said, breathing heavy, "but you better meet me at the hospital and tell me all about you kissing Jimmy Doyle, but try to get Danny first, okay, let him know what is going on?"

"Will do, and congratulations, hot mama!" Gus hung up, her lack of sleep forgotten as she jumped out of bed with excitement for her friend.

She almost broke her arm hailing a cab in a rush to get to the hospital, still pulling on her clothes as she did so. Gus knew she probably looked a hot mess, but she didn't really care because her friends was having a baby. Sure Gus had been on the fence about kids, it was one of the rare points of contention between her and Flack, but that didn't mean she wasn't insanely happy for Lindsay, who had always wanted a big brood. Not to mention kids loved her and she loved being able to spoil them. Much like dogs, Augusta Broussard found loaner children irresistible. She arrived at the hospital right after Lindsay and Adam, before Danny even. Lindsay was standing at the admissions counter in the emergency room, looking very much like a woman who was ready to give birth. Adam was pacing, looking like a wild man and trying to get across to the admit nurse that he was not the father.

"It's not like I couldn't be the father except I would never sleep with her, not that she isn't sleepable with it's just I don't like her like her, I'm just saying I am pretty sure I am not shooting blanks. I mean I guess I could be, I don't have any children that I know of. Oh God, what if I can't-"

Gus walked up to him, shaking her head with a smile. "Adam, go sit down, in those chairs right over there and wait for me to tell you what to do next okay?"

Adam looked at her and to the chairs she was pointing at and back at her and turned crimson as he had the last time they had seen each other. "Oh, Gus, you are here. Of course you are here you are one of Lindsay's best friends, but-"

"Adam, chairs, we will have plenty of time to talk later," Gus remained pointing until Adam slunk over.

* * *

Lindsay greeted her with a smile, though beads of sweat were popping out on her brow. "That was weird, even for you two."

"You know, I could just leave you here with Adam, call Danny, tell him it was a false alarm..." Gus replied, drawing her friend into as big of a hug as she could manage with the big belly between them.

"Thank you for coming, I know how much you hate hospitals. I have to say, I can't recommend this to anyone else at this point in time," Lindsay groaned.

"We have your room ready Mrs. Messer, someone will take you to it right away," the admissions nurse said, an orderly appearing with a wheelchair.

"I am not broken, I am in labor!" Lindsay exclaimed.

"Hospital policy. Are you the other mother?" the nurse asked Gus politely.

Gus' eyes grew wide, "no, I am not. The father is on the way. Jesus, Linds, I know I didn't shower but do I look like a lesbian?" Lindsay laughed, shaking her head as she settled into the wheelchair.

"We will get you settled in and let your friends know where you are, you are going to be fine, honey," the nurse said with a reassuring smile.

Gus went over to the waiting room chairs, trying to not wince at all the germs and wounds filling it as she slumped in the chair next to Adam.

"Adam-" "Gus-" they both started in at the same time.

"Adam, please, let me?" Gus asked, turning to him and putting her hand on his arm. "I am sorry I acted like a crazy bitch the other day, it has nothing to do with you, okay? I am just not ready to get into anything right now and you and I have this amazing friendship and I wouldn't want to make things weird between us. Which it seems I already have and I am sorry." She looked at him for a long moment, willing him to speak.

Adam fidgeted in his seat, dropping his eyes to the floor, unable to look at her. "I've sort of had a crush on you for a while, but I was sort of seeing Kendall and and then I wasn't, so when Lindsay told me about, you know, I thought 'Adam, man up'. Which didn't work out so great."

"Man up?" Gus said, laughing. "I'm sorry, Adam," she said wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

"I am glad you find this funny," Adam replied, finally looking at her.

Gus shrugged, "I don't know, easier to laugh than cry. Look, you are an amazing guy, I wish I could like you that way, it would make a lot of things in my life much easier. But for now, friends is all I can be, if you even are willing to be that."

"Why wouldn't I be willing, who else can I school at video games and doesn't think I am weird for being me?" Adam look incredulous and far less embarrassed.

"Thanks Adam, you are sweeter than I deserve." She leaned over to give him a hug, pulling away when the nurse said, "Mrs. Messer is ready, she is in room 423."

"It is totally weird to hear her called Mrs. Messer," Gus said.

"No kidding," Adam said, shaking his head and following after her.

"How's it going, Mama?" Gus asked as they entered the room.

"It isn't," Lindsay growled, "water broke no movement beyond that and I already hate this room, but I can't leave it except in the wheelchair until the doctor says otherwise."

"Wanna go for a spin?" Adam asked, wheeling over the chair.

"Yes, but Adam, no wheelies!" Lindsay warned.

They had made a couple of laps before Danny came running up, relief as clear on Lindsay's face as worry was on Danny's.

"Let's give 'em a minute, want to go check out how crappy the cafeteria is?"

Adam shrugged, "why not?"

They headed down, catching a quick lunch that was surprisingly not that bad when Stella called to say she had arrived. "Reinforcements cometh," Gus said with a grin hanging up the phone. She took in the look on Adam's face. "You alright, sugar?"

"I am sort of terrified of the whole birth process, since that video they showed us in middle school and-"

"Adam, we aren't going to be in the birthing suite, it is fine, Stella and I will hang out with Lindsay and you can try to calm Danny down, did you see how spazzed out he looked?"

Adam took a deep breath, "yeah, I can do that, I think."

They headed back upstairs, meeting up with Stella before heading to Lindsay's room. Danny still looked nervous and Lindsay just looked frustrated.

"Anything?" Stella asked.

Lindsay shook her head, "but at least now I can go for a walk."

* * *

The woman did exactly just that, Adam and Danny heading off in the other direction. Lindsay was clearly not happy with her lack of dilation or true labor, and was also full of worries and nerves. She poured many of them out to her two friends as they walked the halls. They tried valiantly to placate her, but neither woman was sure it was working.

"Lindsay, the fact that you already thought about it tells me you are going to be just fine," Stella said.

Gus shrugged, "and coming from a former mental health professional, every family needs therapy. Not to mention if your kids don't say I hate you, you are doing something wrong!"

Lindsay shook her head, "I don't know, I just don't." She bent over with a contraction. "Contraction," she moaned.

"That's a good thing, right?" Gus said, rubbing her friends back.

They kept walking until Mac showed up, barely greeting them before pulling Stella away.

"That was weird," Lindsay said.

"Weirder was he wasn't in a suit, I swear to God Uncle Mac sleeps in suits."

"Mac sleeps?" Lindsay retorted with a smile before riding out another contraction. When it finished, she looked over at Gus with a sly smile. "So what's this about your kissing Jimmy Doyle?"

Gus sighed, hoping that being in labor would have deterred her friend from asking, but at least Lindsay hadn't done it in front of anyone else. She still wasn't sure why she had kissed him, except in that moment she wanted to, and maybe there had been some underlying tension between them. Or maybe she was just lonely. Gus chewed on her lip debating how to answer. "Tequila shots," she replied finally.

Lindsay nodded knowingly. "In that case, I am shocked all you did was kiss him."

Hours later with little movement, Gus decided to leave Danny and Lindsay to each other and some alone time in the room. She knew their lives were about to permanently change, and these would be some of the last moments they would have as just a duo. Stella, Mac and Adam had all headed back to work, new evidence arising in an old vehicular manslaughter case that caused them to re-open it despite it being in the solved pile. She wandered the halls of the hospital, trying to not freak out, having had more than her share of hospitals for a lifetime. She forced herself to remember it was a happy occasion and not only bad things happened in hospitals, she in fact had been at least physically healed in one. Gus wandered to the gift shop, stocking up on presents for Baby Messer and took a stack of magazines to the cafeteria, waiting for something to happen. The waiting had her on edge, she could only imagine how Danny and Lindsay were doing. She only returned to Lindsay's room when Danny texted her sometime later, she heard Lindsay's screams well before she got there.

"I hate you Danny Messer and you are never laying another hand on me again, how could you do this to me?"

"Knock, knock," Gus said from the doorway, balloon in one hand and pink bunny under the other.

"Oh thank God, I think she is going to break my hand," Danny said, trying to loosen his wife's grip.

"Wimp. How's it going, hot mama?"

"I am sorry I said you needed to get laid, Gussie, because this is what happens and it is horrible. Become a nun while you still can!" Lindsay yelled in between contractions, reaching out for Gus' hand.

Gus winced, seeing what Danny had been talking about. For a small girl, she had hands like a wrestler. "You know they make great drugs, Lindsay."

Lindsay shook her head and gritted her teeth, "no, all natural, no drugs, so I can bring this up every time she does something to make me mad!"

"okay then, that sounds great," Gus pulled her hand away, shaking it out and meeting Danny's eyes over the bed. "Ow," she mouthed. "I know," he mouthed back. "So you want me to go text everyone and give them an update?"

"Sure," Danny said, grateful to have her there to do these things.

"No, don't leave, stay right here, he can go do it!" Lindsay growled sounding possessed.

"Linds, are you sure you want me here, what am I going to do? I am not a doctor, I didn't go to your classes with you," Gus protested.

"Danny text everyone, Gus stand right there and tell me some of your great New Orleans stories until I get this freaking baby OUT OF ME!" Lindsay screamed.

"On it," Danny said, moving away and pulling out his phone.

"Sure thing, sugar, did I ever tell you about when they were filming _Interview with a Vampire_ and they filled the entire French Quarter with dirt and Brad Pitt used to go running shirtless in Audubon Park?" Gus started in, rubbing on her friend's back and trying to sound soothing, even if the last thing she wanted was to be was present at the delivery. Gus couldn't help but remember the time a woman she was questioning water broke all over her shoes and how Danny wouldn't let her live it down. My, how things had changed.

Gus was happy when the whole process was over, not nearly as ecstatic as Lindsay or Danny mind you, but happy none the less. She left the room, wanting a shower and the ability to feel her hands again. She was pretty sure Lindsay had nearly cracked a couple of phalanges. She exited the birthing suite while the nurses cleaned up baby girl Messer and the proud new parents had a little time alone. Gus was not surprised to see the whole gang anxiously gathered in the maternity waiting room.

"Well?" Stella asked as soon as she stepped in.

"Done, healthy baby girl, squalling already. They are cleaning her up now and I thought I would give them a moment alone." Gus slumped slightly, feeling suddenly exhausted. Everyone else was excitedly chattering, wanting to hear about how she ended up present at the birth, teasing her and laughing at Lindsay's reaction to Danny. She kept on a brave face, but couldn't help feeling a bit melancholy despite the joyous occasion.

Finally they were allowed in. Gus thought about sitting outside, having already briefly met baby Messer, but Sheldon pulled her in. Gus was glad she did, she had to admit the baby looked a whole lot cuter clean and swaddled than covered in goo and screaming her new baby lungs out. The baby was passed around and she couldn't help but laugh at Danny and Lindsay at odds over Lucy versus Lydia as a name. Stella made a big show of all the frilly gifts they had bought as the baby was passed around. Gus wasn't surprised in the least when they asked Mac and Stella to be godparents, but she did find herself a little misty as Mac accepted looking a little verklempt himself. She was grateful for Flack's joke about that being code for diaper duty.

Gus smiled at him, their eyes catching over the happy little family in the bed. For a brief moment, the whole world fell away as their gaze caught, both of them lost in the same train of thought of how ironic it was that it was Danny and Lindsay in that bed with their new baby, that things should have gone so differently a year ago, that it should have been them, wondering if it still could be...

Gus broke off with a start, shaking her head as her heart threatened to pound of her chest. She quickly looked around the room, relieved to see everyone else entranced with the baby. Which she didn't realize was that Adam had seen the whole exchange, saw the way Flack and Gus looked at each other. He knew right then and there that no matter how much of a crush he may have on Gus, he had to learn to let it go, because no matter who they may be with at the moment, Flack and Gus were meant to be together.

* * *

**Chapter 71: Stars Remind Me of You**

Gus was more than ready to return to work, ashamed of having let Elger's get at her, but also know it was also a culmination of her talk with Angell, which was probably also part of the reason she had kissed Jimmy Doyle. She wanted to get Flack out of her heart or at least her head for a minute. Which was impossible considering they were working together for a week longer, not to mention that moment they had clearly shared in the hospital. At least she was able to leave with Sheldon so Flack couldn't approach her about it, knowing him he would want to clear the air.

She returned, took her deserved ass chewing from Daddino and tried to feel a pit in her stomach at the mark on her record. It didn't help that someone had also placed a miniature baseball bat on her desk, looks like the nickname Slugger was going to stick. Gus wasn't sure if it was better or worse than Princess.

"Hey Slugger, welcome back," Flack said by way of greeting as she was attempting to shove the bat in her desk drawer.

"I hope you didn't do this!" she exclaimed, slamming the drawer shut.

"Nope, not since Danny and Lindsay had a girl..." he trailed off looking at her again, not quite as intently as he had in the hospital, but not the light look of a cordial professional relationship either.

Gus cleared her throat nervously, "yeah, well, wonder how many diapers Danny has changed by now?"

"Not as many as Lindsay, I can guarantee that," Flack replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Men," Gus muttered. "So what did I miss?"

"Not much, actually, been quiet."

Gus groaned, dropping her head lightly to her desk.

"What?"

"You know you have just jinxed things, right, Flack?"

Flack shook his head, "it'll be fine. Besides, after your nice little vacation, thought you might be looking forward to working."

"I seem to have missed my fruity beverages and suntan. It was a suspension, not a vacation."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He gave her another grin and headed back to his desk.

Gus spent sometime going through voice mails and emails, some of them on leads she had been trying to track down on cold cases. She made some notes, returned a few calls and was beginning think that Flack hadn't jinxed them. She stifled a yawn, laughing a minute later when Flack appeared at her desk with a coffee.

"Seeing as you didn't come in with one, thought you could use this before you swallow your face."

"Thanks," she replied sincerely.

Overall, suspension and hospital tensions not withstanding, her rotation with Flack had gone better than she ever would have hoped. That didn't mean they weren't still doing an odd dance with each other. But like all good things, her lucky steak had to come to an end. One evening, right before Daddino left for the day, he came out of his office wielding his stapler. Gus realized that thanks to her suspension, it was already time for the next partner rotation to come out. She was caught between relief and sadness until she wandered over to look at the list and then she was, well not happy was an understatement. Her reaction was far from pleased or lady like.

"God dammit Daddino, a month with her, are you frigginging kidding me?" Gus said, storming back from the board and kicking her desk and knocking over her trash and recycling bin.

Parker leaned back with a bemused look on his face. "I take it you seen the next rotation posting?"

Gus growled while picking up crumpled papers now wet with the remnants from coffee cups and coke cans. "Yes, Parker, I did, and thank you so much for the heads up." Her tone dripped with sarcasm but Parker just chuckled. "I am glad you are finding this so freaking funny, Parker. I hope your boot accidentally shoots you in the groin."

"Oh give it a rest, Princess, you are going to be fine. Just hold your head high and don't let her get to you. Plus, I just made $50 on the pool on how you would react to being partnered with Angell, so dinner is on me." Parker handed her a crumbled can that had rolled under his desk.

"Of course there was a pool. What won it?" Gus huffed, blowing her hair out of her face.

"You kicking something and making a mess or hurting yourself when you did so. I mean you did just get back from a suspension and mandated anger management."

Gus growled one more time, pulling herself to her feet and glaring at the pit. "I hate all y'all!"

"Yep, definitely could use some more anger management," Parker quipped.

* * *

Gus stormed out of the pit, without thinking of where she was going. She was already on the elevator with the button for the sixth floor pressed before it hit her. She couldn't escape to SVD, since the last time she had seen Doyle, well, they hadn't talked since she kissed him. She debated heading up to the lab, but there was still the potential for awkwardness with Adam. She certainly couldn't head back down to the pit because Flack probably wasn't taking too kindly to the reaction she had being partnered with his girlfriend, or whatever Angell was. Gus groaned in frustration, she certainly was burning all her bridges. She shook her head, pressing the button for the roof, thinking she could use some fresh air.

She stared out over the city at dusk, enjoying the hint of spring in the air and the fading light from the sun as the city lights began to twinkle below. She surveyed the city below her, trying to feel a connection with it, trying to figure out if it was where she really belonged; worried she might not belong anywhere really. But mostly, Gus was trying valiantly to forget this is where Don Flack had first kissed her, the gentlest of New Year's kisses a scant three months after she arrived in the city. The kiss she almost believed she had dreamed. She as also trying to forget every other moment they had shared on the roof and every other kiss they had ever shared anywhere. But no matter how she tried, she couldn't. Gus was certain at that moment, that she couldn't hide anywhere, and she certainly couldn't hide from herself.

The thought had just entered her head when she heard, "figured you must be hiding up here."

She jumped at his voice, like he could read her thoughts. "Flack! Sorry, yeah, just needed some, uh, fresh air." Gus turned to look at him, wondering if she looked as sheepish as she felt.

Flack raised his eyebrows at her. "Yeah, well, couldn't find you in the lab, or in Special Vics so I figured..." he trailed off, looking like he was debating adding something. Gus remained silent. "Feel like taking a nice Greek tragedy in the park?" he finally asked.

Gus sighed, "while it is a lovely evening, I feel like I have had enough tragedy in my life, Flack." She gave him an empty smile.

His hollow laugh did little to lift her spirits. "That tragedy have anything to do with either Adam or Doyle, sunshine, because both of them were acting a little spooked when I asked about you."

"You know me, a regular Keres," she gave a half shrug.

"I'm going to pretend like I know what you are talking about and nod and then we are going to head downstairs, because no matter who you are, we still got a body in Central Park we need to get to."

Gus sighed and followed Flack down the elevator.

* * *

**Chapter 72: Mouthin' Off**

"So what's this about a Greek tragedy?" Gus asked as they arrived at the crime scene, ducking under the tape.

"Chelsea University Hellenic Club puts on plays in the park every spring, apparently someone got whacked during the performance," Flack said, walking over to the uniforms.

They were able to decipher that the victim had been killed backstage during the performance and the audience had thought it was all part of the show until one of the actresses stepped in very non-stage blood. They walked over to the body, where Hawkes was already photographing and collecting evidence.

"This is why I avoid the theater," Flack quipped as they stood over the body.

"Thought that was were you got your best naps," Gus teased.

Hawkes smirked up at them, dropping some trace into a evidence envelope. "You hear about Stella?" he asked, his eyes turning serious.

Gus shot Flack a look wondering if he was keeping something from her. He looked as curious as she did. "What about Stella?" Gus asked.

"Left her badge on Mac's desk, stormed out after they had a showdown."

"Sheldon, you have got to be kidding-" Gus said, cutting off when Flack gestured toward Mac heading their way.

Flack nodded at the other man, his look to Gus warning her to keep her mouth shut.

"No id, but found this in his pocket," Hawkes said, holding a piece of paper up with tweezers. Mac took it, his face turning to stone. Gus didn't like the flinty look in his eyes. She had been on the receiving end of such a look with some of her less than wise choices growing up, the ones Clair had told him about, at least.

"I can tell you it isn't the victim's address," Mac said, storming off.

"What was that all about?" Flack said, watching him walk away.

Gus shrugged, "don't know, but I got some Gods and Goddesses to go question."

They didn't get anywhere, no one at the scene had any clue who the victim was. Gus did a double take as she realized Mac was talking to Stella, but the man waved her off when she started to approach.

"Apparently all roads lead to Greece not Rome," Gus quipped as she walked up to Flack who wasn't getting more information that she was.

He gave her a smirk. "Nothing more here, other than apparently our vic is George Kolovos. Let's head back to the precinct and see what we can get on him."

Stella wandered into the precinct catching sight of Flack standing over a desk. Gus was on the phone, barely registering Stella until she walked up to Flack and asked where Angell was. Gus inwardly rolled her eyes, continuing with phone conversation, trying to not eavesdrop. Her heart sank as she saw Flack walk off with Stella, seemingly chatting about Angell. She couldn't ignore the stirring feelings of jealousy at the look of concern on Flack's face. She also couldn't help her own concern when she saw his expression as he strode back to his desk.

"Don, what is it?" she asked him, perching on the edge of his desk and leaning in to keep the looky loos at bay.

Flack looked up at her, his jaw clenched. The use of his given name telling him how worried she was about him. But given the subject matter and the shaky ground they had been on, he wasn't sure how much to reveal.

"It is about the case Jess was working with Stella, wasn't it? Does it have something to do with our Central Park vic, is that why Mac had her out at the scene?" Gus slid off the desk, leaning into him, her eyes full of anxiety.

Flack slowly nodded, "yeah, I think it does. You don't know what she was doing with Stella do you?"

Gus sighed, "no, I really don't. We haven't really been as close as we were before..." she trailed off, leaving off Stella's anger at her for leaving, not to mention her ever increasing friendship with Angell meant something else they couldn't talk about.

Flack cleared his throat, "gotcha. I'm sure it will be fine, Stella has a good head on her shoulders. Usually."

Gus looked at him, not believing him. She gave his shoulder a slight squeeze, trying to ignore what just touching him did to her stomach. "I'm going to head up and see if the lab has anything."

* * *

She did a double take as she passed by one of the labs, stopping in her tracks so abruptly that someone ran into her. "Oof," she said, pitching forward and ending up on her hands and knees.

"Crap, Gus, I didn't see you standing there," Adam said, reaching down to pull Gus back to her feet, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, I was just, shocked, what is Lindsay doing her, she gave birth like twelve minutes ago?!"

Adam gave a small laugh. "Yeah, well you know Lindsay. Danny said they could use the cash, so she is here like super part time."

"What about Lucy?"

"She's here too, last I saw she was..." he looked around, "right there with Danny." He pointed over to the fingerprint lab, where baby Lucy was nestled against her father's chest in a sling.

They both watched as Danny started sniffing, his face contouring with disgust realizing it was coming from the creature strapped to his chest. They laughed as he took off toward the bathroom, grabbing the diaper bag on his way. "Ah, the joys of fatherhood," Gus quipped.

"He's not really selling it to me," Adam shot back.

"Me either," Gus volleyed, smirking at him.

His gaze caught hers, he ran a hand through his curls. "Um, Gus, are we cool? You know since the hospital and the other night."

"I think so. I hope so. I love having you as a friend, Adam, and you are going to make some girl very lucky one day. I'm sorry it won't be me."

She looked at him so sincerely, Adam had to agree. "Me too." He started to say something more when Danny passed by them. "Hey guys, have you seen the lab good luck charm, she got us partial print with a match on the murder weapon."

"Way to go, Lucy," Gus exclaimed, tweaking the baby's chubby cheek, "who is it, let me go get Flack and we will get right out there!"

"Slow down, Broussard, I gotta brief Mac, and..." he trailed off looking at her wistfully.

"What is it Danny?" Gus asked, guessing what was coming.

"Lindsay is still here for another hour and she's in the lab with all the chemicals and I don't want Lucy breathing them in and-"

"Danny, would you like me to watch Lucy while you and Flack go question our suspect even though this is my first active case back after my suspension?"

"Well as long as you are asking," Danny grinned at her, unstrapping the baby.

"At least she's recently had a diaper change," Adam interjected as Gus took the baby.

Despite knowing she was going to hear it from the rest of the guys in the pit, Gus brought Lucy down to her desk, trying to get some work done while she watched the baby. While she did get her fair share of teasing, most of the men turned into big softies passing Lucy around like a football. Gus barely had gotten her back when Flack came back from questioning Professor Papakota.

He looked at Gus holding the infant, surprised by the look of joy on her face as she held Lucy. "This day just keeps getting weirder," he said coming up looking slightly worn.

"What's up?" Gus asked looking up from Lucy sweet, sleeping face.

"Went to question Professor Plum and found Stella there instead and now they are both in the wind."

"What?" Gus exclaimed, cringing as Lucy stirred and started to cry. "Great, I made the baby cry. Good thing it is time to go back to mommy!" She headed back toward the lab, Flack following after her with the diaper bag as she attempted to quiet Lucy's wails.

Gus handed Lucy off to Lindsay, following after Flack who was about to brief Mac. They both came to a stop at the doorway to Stella's office where Mac was picking up a broken frame off her desk. "Good Lord!" Gus exclaimed.

"Told you this day just keeps getting weirder," Flack said.

Mac looked up, his eyes full of curiosity and sadness. "I need you two to do a full run down on Professor Papakodas."

"On it, Mac," Flack said walking away.

Gus started off as well before Mac called to her. "Gussie, can you start a trace on Stella's financials?" Gus looked at him, taking in his expression, merely nodding before she headed back downstairs.

Hours later in the pit, Gus stretched, frustrated at the lack of information on the Professor or Stella. Flack hung up the phone angrily. "Both in the wind, nothing on the Professor to indicate he has left the country except he took his passport."

Gus was about to suggest they take a dinner break when her computer dinged. "Not both in the wind. Looks like Stella booked an impromptu vacation to Greece, bought a ticket through a travel agent an hour ago. I'll call the agent, you go tell Mac."

Gus wasn't surprised when Mac called her a few minutes later asking her to run by his place to grab his passport. "Let me guess, you heard Greece was nice this time of year?" she said, dropping off his passport and an overnight bag.

Mac raised his eyebrows at his niece. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this, one way or another. Even if it means chasing after Stella to Greece."

Gus nodded, knowing Mac was feeling torn between loyalty and duty. "Safe travels, Uncle Mac, and keep us looped in." She gave him a brief hug before returning to her waiting paperwork.

Flack was still at his desk, glowering. "You could have gone home, Flack, all of our leads are across the globe. Mac will figure this out as soon as he gets there."

Flack gave a half shrug, "I know, just sucks not being able to do anything on an active case. I reiterate my point on not understanding how you liked cold cases so much."

"Can't explain it, just do. Know how about we grab some food like I was about to suggest hours ago and revisit all this tomorrow. Paperwork isn't going anywhere." She lifted her tote bag onto her shoulder, locking her desk.

Flack looked like he was debating something, but finally nodded, "sure, but you're paying this time."

"Fine," Gus said, shaking her head with a smile.

Gus had just taken a healthy bite of chicken when Flack said, "heard you're excited about your next rotation." She choked, trying to force the chicken down the right pipe as Flack slid water her way. "Geez, I was just trying to make a joke, not kill you, sunshine!"

Gus finally recovered. "Yeah, about that, so maybe I wasn't exactly full of grace. It's not Angell, it's..." she trailed off, taking another long drink of water and wishing they had ordered wine. "This rotation went pretty well."

"You got suspended, Gus!" Flack admonished.

"Not that, you dolt, between you and I, so I was kind of hoping it could stay that way or I could go back to Parker or something, I just know it is going to be awkward between Jess and I."

"I think you need to give both of you more credit than that. You are both great cops, albeit with drastically different styles, but both good at your jobs and, generally, pretty professional."

Gus nodded, wanting to say her fears revolved more around having to hear about his and Jess' sex life or how happy they were or any other constant reminder that she had lost the love of her life because of her own stupidity, but she wasn't sure how to say all that to Flack and not sound like a lovesick puppy.

"So what was with Adam and Doyle acting like caged animals when I asked them where you were?" Flack asked, thinking he was being nice by changing the subject.

Gus almost chocked again, covering herself with forced laughter. "Who knows, Flack, maybe they heard about the Slugger nickname and were scared? Now since you didn't let us order wine, you better plan on us getting dessert." She waved the waiter over, desperate to not go down that road with Flack.


	17. Tears Toward Heaven

**Chapter 73: Jimmy**

Gus finished out the rest of her rotation without incident, happy that things got resolved however they did with Stella. Mac didn't make her privy to the details, but since he also took over the paperwork, she didn't push. Stella was equally tight lipped, though she seemed somewhat more self assured when she came back.

Gus pushed away from her desk, looking forward to her day off the next day when her desk phone rang, the caller from inside the precinct. "Really?" she said, sighing, it turning into a groan as Doyle's number came up on the id screen. She had avoided him since the tequila night and had been hoping to continue to do so for a little while longer

"Got bad news, kid," Doyle said by way of greeting.

"What's that?" Gus said, dropping her bag and sitting back down.

Doyle's tone was tense, "Feds want to talk to us about the Shirazi case."

"Can't they just read the damn court transcripts?"

"Apparently our courts aren't good enough for them. They are flying us in to testify tomorrow. At least it is a charter jet. Pick you up at 7?"

"Fine, I really didn't want a day off anyways," Gus grumbled.

This got a slight laugh from Doyle. "I'll cook you dinner to make up for it."

"It better be manna from heaven to make up for getting up early on my day off," Gus teased.

"You've never had my cooking," Doyle volleyed back.

Gus hung up the phone with a smile, he hadn't brought it up, so maybe she was in the clear.

Testifying before Homeland Security and whoever else was not how Gus planned to spend her day off before her rotation with Angell began. She had been thinking more along the lines of sleeping in, getting some errands done and maybe a glass of wine with a bubble bath. She certainly was not planning on having to get up at the crack of dawn to catch a flight down to DC, even if it was a charter plane. She scratched her head in front of her closet, wonder where all her court suits were before realizing one of her errands was to pick up her mounting pile of clothing from the dry cleaners. She kept forgetting about it since she hadn't needed a court suit. Gus sighed, slipping instead into a basic black pants suit, slipping on her last clean button up and wondering how late she would be up doing laundry before her shift tomorrow morning. "Damn it," she swore, struggling with the tiny, delicate pearl buttons that compelled her to buy the shirt in the first place but were so difficult to do and undo that it regulated the shirt to the back of the closet. She exited her building still struggling with buttons while juggling her coffee and her tote.

"Need some help there, Broussard?" Doyle asked, leaning against his Crown Vic with a smirk. He, of course, looked perfectly put together in his suit, his shoes gleaming with a recent shine. She looked down to her slightly scuffed pumps, wishing she had thought to do the same. He followed her glance, "you keep those top buttons undone and nobody is going to even notice you have feet, much less the state of your shoes" He pointed to her plunging neckline.

"Shove it, Doyle," she said, glaring at him as he opened her door as she continued to fight with the buttons.

* * *

The day was full of hurry up and wait and neither of them told anyone anything different than court transcripts and depositions would have revealed, but apparently Congress had gotten on the human trafficking train and wanted more answers, as if it was that easy. It was tedious at best and by the time they landed back in Manhattan Gus was irritated and starving.

"You would have thought they could of at least given us a real lunch," she grumbled as they got back in Doyle's car.

"Simmer down, Broussard, I'm cooking you dinner, remember."

"Yeah, yeah, what, a frozen pizza?" she teased.

Doyle gave her a look, "you wound me, I know how to cook."

"We'll see," she said with a smile, "but first, I don't know about you, but I need a drink to wash the taste of Fed out of my mouth."

"Fine, but no tequila." Gus turned crimson, they had successfully avoided a single word about that night, and Gus was hoping they could both go on ignoring it forever. "Take a breath, Gus, you are turning funny colors. Not another word about it, I swear," he held his palms up in surrender.

Gus wrinkled her nose, "fine, but I still want a non-tequila based drink."

"I can accommodate that," he said, pointing them in the direction of a bar close to his apartment.

Gus was planning on sticking to beer, until she received a text from Flack that she was pretty sure was supposed to go to Angell. It left her steaming and little to the imagination. Doyle could tell by the look on her face that all was not well.

"What's up?" he asked, not enjoying the annoyance on marring her otherwise pretty face.

"I need to have a talk with my friend Jack," she said, glowering and heading up to the bar. She came back with the bottle and a pitcher of beer. "Or Jameson, either one works," she sighed, setting down the set up.

"Whoa, there, kid, you do know we both have work tomorrow, right?" he said taking in the bottle of whiskey next to the beer.

"Afraid a girl will drink you under the table, Jimmy?" Gus said with a wicked grin, pouring out a couple of shots.

"Fine, it's your hangover," Doyle replied, happy he didn't have to be until the afternoon.

By the time they emptied the pitcher and put a dent in the bottle, both Doyle and Gus were flushed.

"You want to keep going, swamp girl, I'm Irish remember?" Doyle said tipping back another shot, "and this is my namesake."

"Hold up, Jimmy is short for Jameson and you were named after whiskey?" Gus said, trying to not stumble over her words. Doyle had given her a run for her money to say the least, something she wasn't used to outside of New Orleans.

"At least they didn't call me Bushmills," he finished his drink, "now can we go get food?"

"Fine, I cede. Which is a big deal that you better not tell anyone about," Gus said, draining what was left in her pint glass.

Doyle was impressed that she wavered little as they left the bar, she clearly could hold anything but tequila like a champ. He had seen plenty of bigger men fall after as much as she had consumed. "So what is your trick, Broussard, how are you not flat on the floor?"

"Training from an early age," Gus said, following after him as he let them into his building. "Also, did you not notice I had to go to the bathroom like a million times, tiny tank, process it quick."

"Yeah but you always have to go to the bathroom, so what else is new?" Doyle teased, tugging on her hair that was slipping from it's ponytail.

Gus rolled her eyes, "you are so funny. Now tell me about this feast you are making me."

"I was planning on making you pork tenderloin, but seeing as we drank through closing time at the market, it might very well be frozen pizza."

"Ha, I knew you couldn't cook!" Gus declared as they entered his small but cozy apartment. Doyle had downsized when his Penny left him, however, it was still organized and surprisingly domestic.

"I don't think either of us needs to be handling knives right now, in fact we should probably only both be handling water for the moment." After slipping out of his suit jacket and tie, he turned into the tiny kitchen, getting them both glasses of water.

Gus leaned against the door frame, "sugar, I'm not sure how you can even fit a pizza in that thing, let alone a tenderloin." She pointed to the tiny stove as she accepted the glass of water from him.

"Kid, you shouldn't ever tease a man about the size of his stove," he clinked his glass against hers, with a raised brow.

Gus rolled her eyes, pulling the tie out of her hair, since it desperately wanted to escape. Doyle watched her struggling to get it pulled back again, growing frustrated when it wouldn't comply. He couldn't help but give a small laugh. "I know you are not laughing at me Doyle!" Gus exclaimed, finally giving up and pinging him with the elastic.

"Wouldn't dare," he replied ducking. He moved to the equally small fridge, opening up the freezer compartment. "Veggie or pepperoni?"

"Is that an actual question?" Gus scoffed.

Doyle continued to sort through the freezer, using the door as a shield to say, "you really do a lot better with whiskey than tequila."

Gus scratched her head, "yeah, I know, it's weird. I blame this place on St. Charles, their margaritas will make your clothes fall off and you think I would have learned then..." she trailed off, noticing Doyle had emerged from the freezer, a pizza box in hand. "I am sorry I made a fool of myself and practically attacked you, Jimmy," Gus said, half hiding behind her hair and becoming entranced with the pattern of his kitchen tile.

Doyle set the pizza down on the counter, shutting the door to the fridge so there was enough room to face her. "You didn't make a fool of yourself and you certainly didn't attack me."

"Well at the very least, I was inappropriate," Gus said, pushing her hair back nervously. She didn't know why she brought it up, except she desperately wanted to clear the air with him. There had been too many missteps in her life as of late because she hadn't spoken up.

"How do you know you were inappropriate, Gus?" he asked, leaning against the fridge, a slightly bemused look on his face.

"Damn it, Jimmy, I kissed you out of nowhere and then slammed the door in your face," Gus flung her arms up in exasperation.

Doyle shook his head, "I'll give a little rude on the door bit, but not inappropriate."

"How the hell was I not inappropriate?" Gus challenged.

Doyle squared off with her, "because if you hadn't slammed the door in my face, I would have done this." In an instant, he closed any distance left between them, landing an open mouthed kiss on her lips just as heated as she had on him. He worried for a second she would break the kiss off and slap him before storming out, but instead Gus yielded under his touch.

Gus was taken by surprise as Jimmy pulled her into him for a kiss, but the moment his lips met hers, Gus became untethered from all that had been weighing her down the past few months. While it was not a familiar kiss, Gus found herself easily giving up to it. It had been far too long since her lips had sought out the heat of another, that her tongue tangled in gentle exploration of someone else. His hands caught in the tangle of her hair, her arms snaking around his neck, as the crushed against each other possessively. Doyle moved them easily out of the doorway and into the living room, not wanting to break the connection between them. He moved Gus backwards until her knees made contact with the couch, as Doyle tipped her gently back onto it. His body instantly covered over hers, his hand trailing up to her side where her shirt had ridden trailed a line of kisses down her throat before pausing to look down into her green eyes, eyes that were looking up at him in a way that made him feel like he was drowning.

"Broussard?" he croaked out, his voice husky with desire.

"Doyle?" she shot back, a smirk on her face as she reached up to trace his jawline.

He studied her for a moment, not sure if this was a good idea or not. It was clear to him that she was still hung up on Flack, but he wasn't going to ignore opportunity knocking. "You okay with this?"

Gus smiled up at him, she had been wondering the same thing about him. But she was trying desperately to not worry about everything in the entire world, wanting the world to just fall away for one night, to be in someone's arms and feel like she belonged even if for a short time. She reached up, brushing his sandy hair off his forehead. "What am I doing that makes it seem like I am not okay with this, Jameson?" she teased.

"I knew I was going to regret telling you that," he replied, leaning back down to catch her mouth with his own. Gus moaned beneath him as he reached for the buttons on her shirt, struggling to undo them. He knew it had been a while since he had been with anyone and sure Penny preferred organic wool pullovers to things with fancy buttons, but still...

"God I hate this shirt," Gus growled, her hands moving up to his in an attempt to help him. Neither of them was having much luck, their chests heaving with frustration and lust. "Just rip the damn shirt, Doyle," Gus growled as he finally worked a single button free.

"You sure?" he looked down at her disbelieving and then obeyed as Gus deftly undid the buttons on his shirt and threw it across the room, her hands snaking up under his undershirt, caressing the muscles of his chest. The buttons popped open pinging across the room, causing them both to laugh at the primal nature of it.

"Oh I am sure," she said, wiggling out of her pants.

Looking down at her clad only in her underwear and smelling like a combination of honeysuckle and jasmine, Doyle thought Gus was looking far too innocent and vulnerable to continue. Until a lascivious grin spread across her face and she maneuvered out from underneath him, and started to walk away, calling over her shoulder, "I am assuming you got a bedroom in this joint, right, Jimmy?"

Doyle willingly followed after her, into the bedroom and into the bed. Happily letting her take the lead as she undressed him before removing her final articles of clothing before teasing him mercilessly until they were both breathless. "You are making it real hard to be a gentleman, Broussard," Doyle said, his words caught in his throat.

Gus stopped her ministrations, looking down at him with a sly grin. "That ain't the only thing I am making hard, Doyle, and besides I'm not looking for a gentleman, I'm looking to get laid, doctor's orders, remember?"

"Oh, well in that case," Doyle sat up, leveraging himself so that he could effortlessly flip Gus on her back below him, "here's to your health."

* * *

**Chapter 74: Shotgun in my Soul**

Gus woke up with a start, thoughts bombarding her all at once. The most glaringly obvious points being: she was naked, she was not in her own bed, someone's arm was pinning her to the bed that was not her own, her head was pounding, her mouth seemed to have moss growing in it and given the amount of sunlight pouring through the blinds it was fully morning. Gus turned her head to look at the clock, it dawning on her that today was the first day of her rotation with Angell, her DAY watch rotation with Angell.

"Crap, I am so freaking late!" She jumped out of bed, another realization coming to her as she flung Jimmy Doyle's arm off of her and started searching for her clothes. "Oh my God, I am so late, like Angell doesn't hate me enough as it is and we are supposed to be escorting this prisoner and damn it, where are my pants?"

"Good morning to you too," came Jimmy's hoarse greeting, as he slit his eyes open.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't meant, it's just, this...where are my clothes?" Gus sighed, dropping back to the bed, clad only in her underwear and bra, the only clothing items she had so far located.

Doyle gave her a slight smirk. "I might be able to help you." He slipped on his boxers and his undershirt, disappearing for a moment. He came back to the bedroom, returning from the living room, tossing her pants in her direction. "This might be an issue", he said, her shirt dangling from his finger. Gus surveyed the missing or dangling buttons as she slipped on her pants.

"Double crap," Gus growled as she attempted to pull her hair back.

"Calm down," Doyle replied, sliding open his closet door and pulling out a shirt, "this one is a little tighter than I like on me, stupid slim cuts, should work for you. And so what if a prisoner has to cool his heels for a couple of extra minutes? Court doesn't start for another hour." Doyle sat back down on the bed.

"It isn't just any prisoner, it's Connor Dunbrook. He's flipping on his father," Gus said, slipping into his shirt and buttoning it. She tucked the shirt tails into her pants, hoping it wasn't too obvious she was wearing a man's shirt.

"Looks better on you," Doyle smiled, reaching for her.

Gus wriggled away, "Jimmy, I can't, I need to get to the precinct, like twenty minutes ago. This is going to be the longest, worst rotation ever and that is if I was on time."

Doyle looked slightly hurt, trying to figure out if Gus was panicked because she was late or because they had slept together.

Gus caught the look in his eyes and felt guilt wash over her. This is exactly what she hadn't wanted. "Jimmy, look, I really gotta go, we will catch up later, okay, I just need this whole thing with Angell to be as least crappy as possible."

She cupped his face and gave him a kiss, almost yielding to him pulling her back down on the bed, until she finally heard her phone buzzing from the other room. "Jimmy-" she sighed, standing back up.

Doyle rose as well, "I know, you gotta go, duty calls. Dunbrook, huh?"

"Yeah, stupid entitled prick," Gus said, rushing toward the living room in search of her bag, buzzing phone and shoes.

Doyle followed after her, "hold up a minute. Take off that shirt." Gus glared at him. "No, really." He opened the hall closet pulling something out. "Put this on first, it will fill out the shirt and keep you safe," he held it out to her, Gus taking it and realizing it was an extremely lightweight armored vest.

"I don't need a vest to move Connor Dunbrook from the prison to court, it's like 500 feet."

"Look, Gus, his father is a very powerful man who has unlimited connections, so you never know, just put it on, okay?"

The look he gave her said to Gus that Doyle wasn't about to let her leave until she put the damn vest on. "Fine," she unbuttoned the shirt, quickly slipping the vest on and the shirt back over it. The bagginess of the shirt disappeared without too much bulk from the vest. Gus was happy Doyle wasn't that big of guy and that she wasn't a toothpick. "This thing is freaking sweet, but how the hell does SVD earn these and homicide doesn't?"

Doyle shook his head, "it was a gift from my brother, Tommy. He's Special Forces, so this is his idea of a sentimental keepsake. Speaking of which, I want it back in the same condition, so watch your ass out there, Broussard."

"Fine, Doyle, I will," Gus paused giving him another kiss, "and next time, you are actually cooking me dinner." She gave him a wicked grin before heading out the door.

* * *

Gus slammed open the door of the diner, happy to get out of the glaring sun, her aviators doing little to stop the pounding in her head. Angell had taken her tardiness surprisingly well, had only been calling to let her know that Connor was being gracious enough to treat them to breakfast before heading over to the courthouse. Gus couldn't decide if a greasy breakfast sounded like heaven or hell, though she was leaning towards heaven since she and Doyle hadn't gotten around to dinner the night before. She flushed at the thought, wondering what the fall out of sleeping with a superior officer would be, even if he was in a different department. There were sure to be complications...

Gus caught sight of Angell, Connor and a boot uniform in the back of the diner. Angell, pacing in front of the table as the waitress set down plates of food. She nodded, slipping her glasses up into her hair, trying to not squint at the buzzing fluorescent lights.

"Late night, Broussard?" Angell said, coming up to her with a slight smile.

Gus nodded, trying to figure out if it was a playful or spiteful smile. "You could say that, please tell me there is coffee?"

"Already on the table," she paused to study the other woman, her astute eyes taking in the details of her companion's dress. A broader smile spread across her face, "nice shirt, men's slim cut, huh?"

Gus heaved a sigh, maybe if Angell thought she had someone else, she wouldn't be so damn territorial and angry for the entirety of their rotation. She gestured to her front, "yeah, guess it works out better for women, who would have thought?"

Angell gave her a knowing nod, "Adam?" she asked, her eyebrows raising.

Gus waved her hands in exasperation, "no, NO! Why does everyone go there straight away? I love him like a brother but, no." Her exaggerated movement caused the shirt to become untucked, leading Angell to cock her head to the side in curiosity.

"Gus, are you wearing a vest for this dunce?" she asked, moving in closer so Connor wouldn't hear and also to take a better look.

Gus tucked the shirt back in, and scratched the back of her head nervously, "yeah, seems I only have overprotective men in my life."

Angell's eyes narrowed, her immediate thought was that Don had told Gus to wear a vest. "Seems a little paranoid, if you ask me," she said, a smirk spreading across her face, marring her beauty with its vindictiveness.

"Luckily, I didn't ask you, Jess," Gus said, her mind going to the missent text last from the night before and flouncing off to the table to get coffee as Angell walked a few steps away to make a phone call.

Gus downed her first cup of coffee and was pouring another all while trying to ignore Angell's flirting conversation with who could only be Flack. She angrily stirred her coffee while Connor Dunbrook looked her up and down. "What, I don't even rate a shower, Detective? Good thing you are hot, otherwise, I might complain."

She held up a finger, "look here, Richie Rich, this is not the morning for that, at least not until I have consumed half a pig and a gallon of coffee, you got me?" Connor just smirked at her while the probationary uniform looked like he wanted to hide under the table.

Gus felt the shot before she even realized what it was, she was more focused on the fact that a giant truck had just crashed into the diner. Torn between duck and covering and protecting her piece of crap charge, she couldn't quite process that four masked men had exited the truck and two of them were now firing at them. That was until a shot zinged passed her, grazing her arm with a searing streak of fire. It spun her around in time to see two other men dragging Connor Dunbrook out of the diner. She heard Angell firing back at the pair shooting at them, emptying her clip in rapid succession. "I'm going after Connor," she screamed, barely getting a nod of recognition from the other woman who was intent on trying to hit her targets.

Gus took off after the trio, her gun drawn, yelling for them to stop. She exited the wreckage of a diner, running after them quicker than she thought possible. They turned a corner into a service alley, hustling Connor into an idling SUV. Gus disengaged the safety on her weapon while announcing herself one last time, "NYPD, stop or I will shoot."

Their reply was to shove Connor into the vehicle while taking cover behind the doors and shooting towards her. Gus realized quickly she was a sitting duck in an alley with no cover except to hug the wall next to a dumpster, but training took over and she also emptied her clip. Her brain couldn't wrap around how the doors of the SUV appeared to be deflecting the bullets, causing her to have to come out from around the dumpster to try to get a clear shot. Things turned from bad to worse as she heard the click of the last casing against the pavement and reached for her backup clip, realizing it was sitting at her gun locker in the precinct where she hadn't been yet because she had spent the night with Doyle.

The panic must have been clear on her face, as one of the gunmen stepped around the door of the vehicle, what little of his face exposed in a shit eating grin. "Die pig," he said, leveling the gun at Gus. The force of the shots impacting her chest threw her back into the sharp metal edge of the dumpster lid, Gus' mind only faintly registered the other pair of men running up to the vehicle screaming "drive, drive, that damn cop cunt hit Cade," as she saw one last muzzle flash before the world went white hot before fading into pitch black.

* * *

"Hey, hey babe, can you look at me, I'm here. Where's the ambulance and where the hell is Gus?" Flack couldn't entirely survey the scene around him, trying to stop the bleeding and noticing a uniform pointing in the direction of outside.

"She went that way, after them," he said, before getting distracted by other first responders.

Flack barely heard him, focusing on trying to pick Jess up without making her wounds worse and carrying her toward the nearest police cruiser. Jess was going to be alright, she had to be alright.

Gus struggled to pull herself up, she shook her throbbing head, trying to get in enough air. It came back to her in a flash, the truck driving through the front of the diner, had she been hit by the truck? No, the shooting, the guys taking Connor, running to the alley...Gus looked down at her chest, patting at it, Doyle's shirt in tatters, bullets embedded in the vest that had more than done its job.

She attempted to stand, pushing herself up off the pavement, leveraging against the cold metal of the dumpster. Her head was swimming, waves of nausea washing over her. It was then she spied the blood on the edge of the dumpster, with horror, she reached to the back of her head, her hand coming back coated in blood. "It's fine, Gus, head wounds always bleed more, you are okay, you just have to get back to the diner, see if everyone is okay, call this in..." she gave herself an internal pep talk, trying to ignore the fact that her chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it. She knew from far too recent experience the pain of cracked ribs, hopefully nothing was punctured. Nausea won out and she emptied the bare contents of her stomach on the pavement as she used the wall to crawl walk back up the alley. She spied the dinner up ahead, emergency vehicles scattered in front like discarded toys, crime scene tape cordoning off the block, busy first responders already hard at work. How long had she been out? She stumbled forward, trying to tell them about the vehicle and Connor and ask if everyone was okay, but she unable to get the words out, only able to form a small whimper of frustration as she pitched forward into the arms of a terrified looking uniform.

Lindsay came in, feeling out of sorts at the destruction around her. "Witnesses all say the same thing, truck came in, 2 start shooting, 2 grab Dunbrook and go to a vehicle waiting."

"They all saw the truck come up from the alley and head down Tillman, but no one has seen Gus. Except a uniform says she showed up a couple of minutes before the truck smashed through the window, was talking to Angell and then went over to Dunbrook. She seems to have disappeared when the shoot out was going on."

"Her phone is still going to voice mail, this doesn't make any sense, Mac, I mean I know she wasn't happy with this rotation, but it isn't like Gus." Mac raised his eyebrows at Lindsay, while it wasn't like Gus to not report to duty, it was like her to disappear when she felt the world was turning on her. "No, Mac, don't give me that look, she's doing better, she wouldn't leave again, something is wrong."

It was then then the ashen faced uniform came up to them, "I think we found her," at the same time Robert Dunbrook showed up at the scene.

* * *

Hawkes followed the uniform outside where his partner was all but cradling Gus who seemed to be in a state of semi-consciousness. He was over her in a second, gently shaking Gus, trying to get her to focus on him. "Come on Gus, look at me," he said, patting her on the cheek.

"SUV, late model Hummer, got Connor, weird doors, magic to bullets," she babbled, looking up at Hawkes face, "need more coffee, Doyle's vest good, head hurts," she continued on.

Hawkes was finally able to take a read on her pupils, which were fixing on him with ever increasing equal awareness. "okay, Gus, can we get you sit up?" Gus gave him the briefest of nods, so Hawkes gently lifted her up from the uniform's lap. It was then that he saw the blood left behind and also realized his hands were covered in it. Thinking of the puddle of Angel's blood he had just been photographing on the floor of the diner, his eyes grew wide. "Can you tell me where you hurt?"

"All over," Gus said, starting to regain focus, even if she was still dizzy and disoriented. Maybe she should lay off the booze for awhile.

"What about the Hummer?" Mac said, leaning over her, having come over after telling Robert Dunbrook off.

Hawkes shot him a look, trying to locate the source of the bleeding, finally finding the large gash on Gus' head. Her confusion suddenly made a lot more sense. "Gus, did you hit your head?"

Gus tried to nod again, but the pain was too great, "on the dumpster when that asshole realized my clip was empty and unloaded his at me," she said, through gritted teeth as she struggled to sit fully upright. Mac gave her a small grin, her fighting spirit sending waves of relief through him. She reached back to feel the gash in her skull. "How bad is it?" she asked, sheepishly.

Hawkes was studying her movement, taking in the tatters of the shirt she was wearing, realizing there were several bullets lodged in the form fitting vest she was wearing underneath and that whoever had shot at her hadn't been a bad shot. "I need an EMT over here, stat," he yelled waving them over.

"Sheldon?" Mac asked.

"She definitely is concussed, I can't tell how bad the wound is on her head because of all her hair, but it might need stitches. She was hit, several times, but was wearing a vest, but we can't be sure that none of them penetrated or that she isn't suffering from internal bleeding. She's rapidly regaining full consciousness, which is a great sign, but she still needs a hospital."

As the paramedics started gathering around her, Gus fought them off, "I'm fine, not the first time I've knocked my damn noggin' just wrap it up and let me go, we have to get Connor Dunbrook back and I can't have Angell think I can't do my damn job!" She caught the looks on Mac and Hawkes faces when she said Angell's name. "What, what is it? Did Jess get hurt?"

Mac nodded solemnly, "she was hit, twice, once by a hollow point, Flack got her to the hospital in the back of a cruiser, we are still waiting to hear, but she lost a lot of blood."

Gus tried to take in what he was saying, emotions flooding over her in waves. She might have her issues with the other woman, especially when it came to Flack, but Jess was still a fellow cop and she didn't want anything horrible to befall her. This information was enough to have Gus clawing at her vest, "This is why I need to be back out there, I don't need to get to the hospital, what I need is out of this freaking vest and a new shirt."

Hawkes all but held her down, "Gus, Gus, stop, stop it! You need to get checked out to make sure you don't have internal bleeding or blunt trauma, and you need to keep the vest on until a doctor can see it and you."

"Alright than, Doctor Hawkes, take a good look at me and it, but I am not-get your hands off of me, I am not getting on that gurney!" Gus struggled against the paramedics trying to lift her onto a board and gurney. Her body betrayed her though as she slipped into the looming blackness once again.

* * *

**Chapter 75: Tears Toward Heaven**

Gus woke again in a bed in the E/R, both her head and chest bandaged, and both throbbing with pain. She struggled to sit, fighting at the wires and IVs attached to her, ripping them off despite the blaring alarms protesting against her doing so. Her bedside was immediately filled with a bevy of medical professionals, thinking they had a code on their hands as opposed to an unruly patient. "Miss Broussard, I need you to calm down. Nurse Marin, get me a B52 ready."

This caused Gus to freeze. "It is Detective Broussard and I do not need Haldol or Ativan, I am not having a psychotic break. What I need is to be told when I can be released so I do not AMA on you so I can get back out there and do my job."

Gus saw Nurse Marin pull the doctor back, hearing her say, "diner shooting...partner...didn't make it." Gus once again became a flurry of activity, trying to get the rails of the bed to release. "What do you mean didn't make it, Jessica Angell, the other cop, where is she, what is happening?"

The nurse pushed the doctor out of the way as he seemed to still want to restrain Gus. "I'm sorry, Detective, I just heard the surgeon brief, was it her husband? The tall cop. The trauma was too great, she coded in surgery. I am certain they did everything they could, I am sorry for your loss."

Gus let out a wail, the fight leaving her, replaced by grief.

Despite her great protestations, the doctor refused to release Gus, wanting to keep her under observation. He was concerned about her concussion given her recent trauma history as well as any residual blunt force delay injury. She wasn't surprised to learn of her cracked ribs, but at least they were new fractures that should heal quickly or that her head wound needed a few stitches. The only thing keeping her from leaving against medical advice was the doctor's threats to put in her both physical and chemical restraints. Gus knew that would only prolong her hospital stay and require a psych consult. She couldn't remember ever feeling so helpless, except for when she was at OPP as the flood waters rose after Katrina and complete anarchy descended over her beloved city. At least then she hadn't been confined to a bed, even if every second was a fight to stay alive.

She truly mourned Angell's death knowing it could have just as easily been her, perhaps should have been her. She regretted the last words she spoke to the woman were awash with bitterness. No matter how much jealousy and envy she had, Gus would have traded places with Jess in a heartbeat. The other woman had so much more going for her than Gus did at the moment, beyond just Flack. Flack, her heart ached for him more than it ever had. She knew he must be devastated beyond belief, that he would never be the same after this and who knew what that meant for him or her or them. Not to mention it was probably already circulating that she was wearing a vest and Angell wasn't, regardless that protocol highly suggested they do so. She probably wouldn't have been if Doyle hadn't made her. Doyle, he had saved her life, no doubt about it. So much for that being an uncomplicated one night stand.

As if the universe wanted to taunt her, she looked up to see none other than Jimmy Doyle standing sheepishly at the foot of her bed. Her emotions overtook her again as she saw the look of grave concern on her face. "I think I owe you a new vest, Jimmy," she said between painful sobs.

He moved to her bedside, gently laying a hand on her back until her tears subsided. "Don't worry about the frigging vest, kid, how are you?"

"Concussion, bruises, four cracked ribs, a couple of stitches and a tetanus shot thanks to a disgusting dumpster. Just another day on the job," she said, trying to sigh.

He pulled up a chair, reaching out for her arm. Clearing his throat he said, "I don't know if you know but Angell-"

Gus closed her eyes, wanting to spare him having to tell her what she already knew. "The nurse told me, she didn't make it. I can't believe it, Jimmy, one second we are having breakfast, getting ready to walk a kid across the street and..." she trailed off, ."..and now I am stuck here and can't do anything to help. Do you know anything?"

"Every cop in the city is working this case," Doyle started.

"Except me," Gus grumbled.

"Every cop that didn't get shot at today is working this case. I'm going to call Sinclair & Taylor, see how we can best use my team. We will find who got Angell. You don't kill a cop and get away with this, not in this city." He paused, reaching for her hand, "that could have been you, kid." His eyes clouded slightly.

Gus couldn't handle this on top of everything else. "Don't you go soft on me now, Jimmy. It wasn't me, because of you." She covered his hand with both of hers, giving it a squeeze, "I won't ever be able to thank you enough."

Doyle gave her a small smile, "this mean I don't owe you dinner anymore?"

"Knock, knock," came a voice from behind the curtains, as Danny stepped in, looking curiously at Doyle sitting beside Gus' bed.

"Danny!" Gus cried, seeing the battered look on his face.

He strode to her bedside, opposite of Doyle, attempting to maneuver around to give her a hug. She winced at the pain, but hugged him back.

"Have you seen Don?" she asked when he broke of the hug. Danny looked down at her, his eyes full of pain as he nodded.

Doyle cleared his throat, "I'll get out of your hair, need to make those phone calls." He left quickly.

Gus looked at Danny questioningly, until he responded. "I just left him, he's not good, Gus, I've never seen him like this, he looked so broken, I can't imagine what he is going through if anything happened to Lindsay-" he broke off not sure what to make of Gus' expression. She seemed pretty broken and torn herself. He knew she was still in love with Flack, probably always would be. "He's shook up, we all are. He's waiting," Danny sniffed, "waiting on Sid now."

Gus lowered her face to her palms, full of anguish and guilt, "it should have been me," she said to her hands as tears fell again.

Danny pulled her hands away. "Don't say crap like that, it shouldn't have been anyone, but it could have been you. Good to know you finally learned to wear a vest."

"Yeah, about that..." Gus trailed off as Danny's phone buzzed.

"I have to get back to the diner, Mac is holding a briefing. Hang in there, Broussard."

* * *

"Mac, what are you doing here?" Gus asked several guilt ridden and feeling useless hours later. Doyle had given her as many updates as he could. She knew they had tracked down the men who had killed Jess and were planning a raid, but she hadn't heard back from him yet. The silence was crushing as she was fraught with terrified anxiety over the safety safety and well-being of those she cared for.

"Doctor is releasing you to my care, I have to watch you over the next couple of days and keep you up for a while longer."

"Thanks Mac," she said, as he came over and lowered the rails on the bed, handing her a pile of clothing.

"It's not a problem, Gussie." He reached out and set a hand carefully on her shoulder, "I'm glad you are okay, I'm sorry if I didn't seem concerned enough-"

"Stop it, Mac, I am fine, mostly, certainly not any worse than I have ever been. You had a job to do and you did it. Right?"

Mac nodded stoically, "we got them, the men who killed Angell." He looked like he wanted to say more but stopped. "I'll let you get changed."

She did so, slower than she would have liked, but she was far too relieved to be leaving the hospital to complain. Mac was waiting for her just on the other side of the curtain, waiting to help her out into his truck. She tried to not wince as she climbed up into the seat, glad to be alive, even if she did feel guilty about it.

"Must have been a good vest you had on, Doctor said you took several direct hits." Mac's voice was tinged with concern as he pulled away from the hospital.

"Military issue," Gus said, looking out the window and playing with her hair.

"How did you end up with, never mind, I don't really want to know." Mac tapped at the steering wheel, one of his few nervous habits.

Gus looked at him, her gaze scrutinizing. "Yes, Uncle Mac?"

"The team is over at King's, holding a little memorial for Jess', I am supposed to be heading over there."

Gus nodded, "that's fine, I can chill in the truck." She went back to looking out the window.

"You will not," he replied.

"I am sure nobody wants to see me right now, be reminded that I got away without a scratch."

Mac resisted the urge to pull the truck over, he knew his niece was closing to shutting down yet again, as she had with the plethora of traumas she had experienced in her life. "Listen to me, Augusta, I and everyone else in that bar, is thankful you were wearing that vest and made it out alive today. You went after an armored vehicle and military trained assassins. Yes you did get away, by a miracle and it was not unscathed."

Gus didn't reply, remaining entranced with the world passing outside her window.

"I know you might be feeling guilty-" Mac started.

At this Gus turned quickly toward him, her voice raised. "Of course I am feeling guilty, Mac! Angell had everything going for her. She was gorgeous and athletic, she had noting but commendations and awards in her jacket, friends and parents and brothers who loved her and Don..." she broke off, her tears betraying her once again. "I have none of that, it should have been me."

"I can't make you see it, Gussie, but you have that, even if not in the most traditional sense. As for Don, he's going to need you, as a friend, more than ever." Mac pulled up to the curb in front of the pub. "Everyone in that room loves you, probably more than you love yourself." He helped her down out of the truck, pulling her into a hug, "I love you, Augusta, you are family, you and Reed are what I have left of Claire, and I am glad I didn't lose you today."

Gus hugged him back, unable to form words as she tried to compose herself enough to go inside. She hid behind Mac as they stepped in, all eyes turning to them, but thankfully no one spoke as Stella had just taken the lead in a toast.

Stella started in, raising her glass. "Jessica Angell was one of those rare people who touched each of our lives, who reaffirmed our faith in humanity..."

Gus listened, tucked beside Mac, wishing she hadn't been released from the hospital, unable to make eye contact with Flack, knowing if she did so, she wouldn't be able to hold back the flood of tears. Her guilt crushing her heart and soul, no matter what Mac said. She stared behind Stella's shoulder, praying for the strength to keep it together, even though inside she was crumbling. She wavered slightly, Mac reaching out to steady her with the hand that wasn't raising his glass, pulling her in closer and for a brief moment she felt safe.

Until, for the second time that day, Gus' world exploded in gunfire and she knew without a doubt that she wasn't wearing a vest this time and neither was anyone else around her, all the people she cared for most in this world.


	18. Hey Bartender

**Chapter 76: Hey Bartender**

Gus couldn't entirely believe the bar around her was exploding in a hail of gunfire. Mac held her down against the floor as she cowered, covering her head with bullets. The moment he lifted his palm, going for his weapon, she did the same, cursing to herself as she realized it wasn't there. She was left once again feeling powerless as her world came crashing down around her one shard of glass at a time.

As quickly as it began, it was over. The dust settled, the civilian patrons of the bar lifting themselves up in a daze while the team sprung into action, Stella and Mac running outside after the car that had opened fire on them. Flack, Adam and Hawkes tending to those inside. Gus slowly pulled herself up, trying to shake off the ringing in her ears. It was then she realized Lindsay was hovering over Danny in horror, her hand clasped over her mouth, frozen with fear. Gus followed her line of sight, seeing the blood seeping from underneath her friend.

Flack and Hawkes reached him first, applying pressure to the wound while trying to not move him. Adam was on the phone with dispatch, though sirens could already be heard approaching. Gus went into crisis counselor mode, trying to calm the panicking patrons in the bar despite feeling like she had a tenuous grip at best on reality.

The week after the day of shootings was more or less a blur, the only thing Gus felt besides the occasional bits of physical pain was empty and lonely. Mac obsessed over tracking down who shot at them in the bar, no wonder considering one of his detectives was now wheelchair bound, though thankfully not dead. Gus attempted to go help Lindsay care for both Danny and Lucy, but Danny refused to let anyone see him (as he not so delicately put it) "like a cripple." Sheldon found the best way for him to cope with his trauma induced insomnia was to volunteer with the Medical Corps, leaving little time for anything other than work, though he was kind enough to help Gus through the process of procuring dress blues, which she hadn't needed up until that point. Adam and Stella seemed to have forged some weird bond after that night, leaving Gus feeling a little more than wounded by what she perceived as abandonment by two of her friends, doubly by Stella. That left Don, who refused to take any of her calls and barely acknowledged her at Jess' funeral.

Jess' funeral; Gus had little to no recollection of it, only able to remember her last bitter moments with the other woman and the crushing guilt she carried deep down in her soul. Her only memories of it were flashes: Jess' grieving parents, the cream roses covering her casket, the blue line that encircled the city on that rainy day, the haunted look in Don's eyes as she approached him at the grave site, the imprint on her cheek from the buttons on Doyle's dress blues as he held her as she sobbed after Don's cold rejection...

Doyle, they hadn't talked much since the shooting, since the night they slept together, other than when he saw her in the hospital and her breakdown at the cemetery Doyle was just another layer of shame and guilt for Gus to struggle through. Instead, like everything else, she shoved it down and locked it away and kept on going. Coping she had learned from Mac, except he was fueled by white hot anger and she was drowning in nothingness. Daddino suggested she take some time, but she had no leave left and couldn't stand to not be doing something. He shoved her back on cold cases, where at least she could feel slightly competent and had Parker back as her partner. Gus was able to float through the days in the same state of blankness that allowed her to function the summer before in New Orleans.

Parker looked across his desk at Gus, shaking his head. He worried about her, it was clear she wasn't sleeping, considering he could barely convince her to leave the precinct to go home. She didn't seem to be eating much either, gaining most of her substance from vending machine fare and whiskey. What bothered him the most was that the spunk and fire was gone from her eyes, they looked back at him with a hollowness that reminded him of when the boys came back from 'Nam. He knew it wasn't the first time she had encountered a war zone, kid had seen far too much crap in her life, but he was worried this time she wouldn't fully come back.

* * *

It was late, the pit relatively empty, Parker having given up on convincing Gus to call it a night before returning home to his loving, if slightly impatient wife. Gus was deep in a box of musty evidence and barely registered her phone vibrating. She looked at it, convinced she was hallucinating the number that came up on the screen.

"Broussard," she answered, her voice devoid of any emotion.

"Gus?" came the tentative response.

"Don? Did you mean to call me?" Gus asked, a slight feeling of bewilderment creeping through the nothingness.

A long stretch of silence had almost convinced Gus he had hung up and hadn't meant to call her when finally, "I, um, seem to have misplaced my wallet and this nice bartender needs to get paid."

Gus could tell he was trying to not slur his words. Don Flack was calling her drunk and needing her help. This was an interesting turn of events. "Don, where are you?"

"Gracie's," he replied, naming a hole in the wall bar situated between his apartment and the precinct.

"I'll be right there, don't go anywhere."

Gus arrived, about twenty minutes before closing time, seeing Don slumped at the far end of the bar, a half-finished beer in front of him. He didn't see her enter, entranced as he was with peeling the label off the bottle. She waved the bartender over to her end, keeping her voice low. "Hey Bartender, how long has he been here?" she asked, pulling out some cash.

"Little over a week," the bartender replied gruffly, looking anything but a Gracie. Gus raised her eyebrows. "Every night, same thing, bottle of beer with two whiskey backs, repeat until some pretty young things comes and flirts with him, until, I don't know, he says something to tick them off and they leave here steaming mad. He stays until closing, but always tips well and doesn't drive, so..." the bartender trailed off.

"What about tonight?" she asked, hoping he could fill in some blanks.

"I am pretty sure tonight's honey lifted his wallet, but I knew he was a cop, so I figured why get involved," the bartender lifted his hands up.

"I see," Gus replied, her tone like a blade, "how much he owe you?"

He told her, she almost reeled at the amount, but counted out the bills anyway, adding a hefty tip only because she wanted the bartender in her pocket. He took the bills off the bar with a smile. "Thanks, can I get you anything?"

"Whiskey, triple, neat," she replied without missing a beat.

His eyebrows shot up, "not a cosmo kind of girl?"

"Not on your life."

He slid the glass of whiskey to her and she downed it easily. "So how do you know the cop, sweet cheeks?"

"We work together," Gus shot back, pulling her jacket back so he could see her badge, "and it is Detective Broussard, not sweet cheeks."

The bartender became flustered, "er, ah, nice to meet you, name is Stan, let me know if I can get you two anything else." He started to walk away, but Gus called after him.

"Yeah, Stan, how about you take this," she pulled her card and a bill out of her wallet, "and you call me if blue eyes over there is about to do something stupid?"

Stan took both the card and the money, slipping them into his pocket, "you got it, sweet ch-detective."

Gus strode to the end of the bar, sitting beside Don. It took him a long beat to realize he had company.

"Gus, you came." He sounded surprised.

"Of course I came," she motioned in the direction of the bar, "nice place you got here, apparently they sell real top shelf stuff." Flack looked at her blankly. "I paid your tab already, met Stan, nice guy." She studied him for a minute. "Don't take this the wrong way, blue eyes, but you look like shit."

Flack looked her up and down without missing a beat, "so do you, sunshine."

"Thanks," Gus let out a sigh, wanting another drink. "You want me to fill out a report on the chick who took your wallet?" She waited for his reaction.

Flack remained stone faced, "Nobody took my wallet, I probably just left it at home."

Gus cocked her head at him. "Home, got it. Speaking of which, guess I should be heading there. Have a nice night, Flack, good chatting." She tapped the bar before sliding off her bar stool.

Flack caught her arm in a surprisingly tight grip, "Gus wait."

She froze, emotions trying to fight their way to the surface but her defenses blocking them out. "What, Don? I paid your tab, it is closing time and I should probably attempt to get some sleep for one night."

"Don't leave." His plea was clear in his eyes, not the normal color of a clear sky, but more like the Gulf when a hurricane is offshore.

"Have to, Don, closing time," she pointed at the clock over the bar and to Stan, standing there with the keys in his hand.

Flack took a breath, realizing the lights were on and everyone else had left. It was like every other night for the past couple of weeks, where he briefly shook himself out of his haze and headed home to pass out for a few hours before heading back to the bar again. Except tonight, tonight was different and not just because that damn girl lifted his wallet.

Gus shook her head at him before turning to stomp out of the bar, waving to Stan on the way out. "Don't forget me, Stan," she said, pushing open the door with more force than necessary.

"Oh I won't, sweet cheeks, but aren't you going to take this one with you?" Stan replied, pointing at Flack.

Gus shook her head again before turning out into the dark night.

* * *

"You said to call, so I am. He's at it again, sweet cheeks, third time this week You might want to come," Stan's gruff voice barked as Gus picked up the phone, a couple of nights later.

Gus sighed, her voice weary "I'll be right there, don't let him leave."

"He ain't leaving, I am beginning to think his ass is glued to that bar stool, but the sharks are starting to circle and there's this one broad who looks like she smells blood in the water." Stan was beginning to wish the detective would have picked any other bar in the city to drink his sorrows away in, despite the man's hefty tab that was tipped well on.

"Fifteen minutes, Stan, twenty max, I'll be there." She capped her own bottle of whiskey that she had been sipping on since she got home, thinking this was surely a case of the blind leading the blind.

Gus jumped out of the taxi in front of the bar. "Two minutes, I promise, do not leave and I will tip you in cash, okay?" she begged the driver, hoping it would be easy to convince Flack to leave. He had gotten more belligerent as of late.

Gus strode to Flack's stool, barely even greeting Stan, even if she was grateful he had actually called her. "Don, come on, time to go, cab's waiting."

"What? No it isn't, not even closing time yet," Flack shot back, wondering what Gus was going there.

"Yes, it is, so say goodbye to your friend, and come on." Gus shot the woman hanging off Flack's arm a glare that sent her scurrying away.

"What was that for, I was having fun?" Flack protested.

"No, Don, you are not having fun and neither am I, so get your ass off this bar stool and into the cab before I call Uncle Mac to come help me get you home."

This got through to him, as Gus knew it would. She was well aware of Flack's course of self-destruction, she had been on plenty of her own and was on one now. She was also aware of Flack's pride especially when it came to Mac Taylor and knew he wouldn't want the other man to see him this way. Flack stood, looking at her angrily. She squared off with him, not giving an inch.

"Listen to her Flack, take the pretty girl home," Stan said from behind the bar, clearing away Flack's glasses.

Flack set his jaw, but followed Gus from the bar. She all but shoved him in the cab like he was a perp, crawling in after him. It was only a couple of minutes to his apartment building, where she threw some cash at the cab driver.

"What, you don't trust me to go home?" Flack asked, more angry than wounded.

"No, I don't, because now you are acting like me and I wouldn't go home," Gus shot back, tapping her foot as she waited for him to get out his keys.

He didn't argue, knowing how stubborn Gus could be, like Jess' in that way. Jess...he missed her so much, how could she be dead? They hadn't been together for long and he still wasn't sure if he had been in love with her, but he had enjoyed how easy and uncomplicated their relationship had been. But now she was dead and he had killed Cade and the demons were eating away at his soul and he wasn't sure he deserved redemption. Flack saw Gus studying him, her eyes piercing through his armor. He wondered if she knew he had offed Cade? They hadn't talked since Jess was killed, looking at Gus reminding him of how happy and miserable she had made him as well as reminding him of Jess. He broke his gaze away, fumbling with his keys in the lock until Gus covered his hands with her own, wordlessly opening the door to the building and leading him upstairs.

She opened the door to Flack's apartment, realizing she hadn't ever been there. She held the door open waiting for Flack to enter, trying to ignore the shattered look in his eyes. She knew without a doubt that Flack was doing more than just mourning Jess' death, he was haunted by something far deeper.

Flack stepped past her, stopping short, wondering if she was going to come in or not. He was suddenly clutched with panic at the thought of being alone. "Don't leave," he said suddenly.

Gus froze, she had been debating whether to stay or go just as Flack spoke. How did he always seem to be able to read her mind, even if he was drunk off his ass? She turned, seeing the look in his eyes and closed the door behind her as she stepped into his place.

They stood there for a moment facing each other in silence. Flack broke first. "Jess is dead," he said, with finality.

"And I'm not," Gus replied, her tone devoid of emotion.

It was her tone that struck him more than her words, like they were coming up from an empty well. Flack stared at her, willing her to step closer. She didn't, instead continuing, "I'm sorry it wasn't me instead, Don, I am so very sorry." Her resolve broke, tears rolling down her cheeks, though it was if she didn't even realize she was crying.

"Don't say that," Flack protested wearily. There had been more than enough death lately, he took the first step towards her, shocked when she put her hands out to block him.

"I mean it, you could have had everything with her, you could have built a life with her, I have nothing but destruction to offer, it should have been me." Her palms hit his chest but did nothing to stop his approach. Gus felt like fabric being torn in half, unaware of the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"But it wasn't," Flack said, something fracturing inside him. Jess was dead, he was a murderer and no one would understand that except the woman standing before him. He just wanted to feel whole again if even for a moment, without grief and guilt grinding him down, without feeling like he was condemned. There was only one person that had never judged him, even if she had broken his heart, and that person was standing right before him, her hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. "Gus," he growled, animal instincts gripping him as his lips sought hers.

Gus woke up a short time later, on the floor of Don's living room, recognition and dread hitting her with a one two punch. They hadn't even made it to the bedroom, their clothes torn hastily off in the entryway. She wiggled out from under Don's frame, not surprised when he didn't even stir as he clearly more passed out from the booze than sleeping. This was not the way she had pictured getting back together with him, going at it up against the wall of his apartment like caged animals. It was more like the night after Truby was arrested, Don full of primal lust and pent up anger. It wasn't about her as much as it was him trying to forget Jess and whatever else was going on with him. Gus had her suspicions but she knew better than to ask him about it. She had let him use her, plain and simple, she just hoped it helped him even if it only filled her with regret and anguish.

It quickly became habit. Flack calling her at closing time, she meeting him at the bar or his house, them wordlessly screwing like rabbits in heat, both searching for something they were never going to find. She ignored him when Don called out Jess' name, never mentioning him crying in his sleep. He didn't say anything about her leaving before dawn broke, casting its light of judgment on them both. Gus knew it was a bad idea, to say the least, but wrapped in his arms after or having him inside her was the only time she felt anything other than emptiness or guilt. She knew it couldn't keep happening this way, but for the moment it was something that belonged only to them, their secret, and that was about the only thing she felt she had left in this world.

* * *

**Chapter 77: Running Into You**

She had barely been home, having just showered and dried her hair after her latest booty call with Flack when her phone rang, her Loo calling her early on a Saturday she was supposed to have off. Gus immediately knew something was going on. "Loo, what's up?" she answered, her voice on edge.

"Broussard, I didn't wake you?" Daddino seemed surprised.

"Nope," she answered, already dressing as she waited for him to come out with it.

"You aren't drunk are you?" he asked, worrying about her answer.

Gus contemplated her state for a moment, "no, sir."

"I need you out in the field. Shooting downtown."

"I thought I was on cold cases," she protested.

"You were, but that was before your Uncle decided to go all cowboy with that Messer kid and we got ourselves a dead Jane Doe."

"What? Gus tried to process what he was telling her.

"Haven't even gotten to the best part yet, seems like your boy Flack has decided he is done with being on leave as soon as he heard who was involved and is already on scene. I suggest you get your ass down there ASAP."

Gus did as she was instructed, arriving at the highrise as quickly as possible, running into both Mac and Flack in the lobby. "What the hell?" was her greeting to both of them.

Mac stared at her for a long beat, not sure how to reply. "Just get back to me on the guard and the security cameras, Flack. Good morning, Augusta."

"Is it, Uncle Mac?" Gus called to his back as he walked away.

Flack leaned against the desk in the lobby of the building, raising his eyebrows at her. "Why are you here?" she asked in response, her brow furrowed in annoyance and confusion.

"Nice of you to show up, sunshine," Flack shot back, sarcasm full in his voice.

"Pardon me, for thinking about crazy things like sleep on my day off after-" she cut off, realizing the security guard taking in their exchange. "Never mind, what the hell is going on with Mac and Danny and why were they here?"

Flack filled her in on the phone call Danny had received on the tip line from the Jane Doe, a lead on the bar shooting from the month before. "Seems her brother, Jake, was involved, but that is about all we know about her. Security guard by the name of Albert Pelton is also missing. Not a hell of a lot to go on until the geek squad gets finished up there," he gestured above his head.

"Missing persons looped in on Pelton?" Gus asked, trying to stay professional, despite the fact that she was thinking Flack shouldn't be back at work and lost in thought on how he looked naked on his couch just a few hours before.

Flack nodded, "yeah, they are checking in with his wife now." He cut a look over at the guard at the bank of monitors, leading the other man to scurry away. "I can't keep doing what I've been doing. Like I told Mac, I'm better at work."

"I see," Gus replied icily, assuming Flack was telling her that their sleeping together over the past few weeks had been a mistake. Of course it had been, but Gus wasn't ready to hear him admit to it.

They stared at each other a long moment before Gus broke away. "I'm going to go upstairs and see how things are going." She turned on heel without giving him a chance to respond.

* * *

She arrived upstairs in time to catch Adam being lightly teased by Lindsay to process the scene. "What's up with Ross?" she asked as he danced away.

Lindsay shrugged, "I don't know, must have had his Wheaties, he's been on cloud nine lately was beginning to think maybe you two took me up-"

"Do not even finish that train of thought, Lindsay Monroe Messer!" Gus shot back, more anger in her voice than she would have liked.

"Ahem," Danny cleared his throat from his wheelchair.

"Hey Messer, anyone take your statement yet?" Gus asked, trying to gather herself.

Danny made a face, "some incompetent uniform, might want to take it again, not that there is much to go on."

Gus took his statement again, checked in briefly with Stella, looked around for either Mac or Flack before giving up and heading back to the precinct.

There wasn't much to do until Sid got around to performing the autopsy on Jane Doe and the team got finished processing the scene, so Gus found herself back in the pit, trying to not glare daggers at Flack. She instead attempted to bury herself in cold cases with little success.

Flack's return to work caused a slight uproar in the pit, leading Gus to wish for a place to hide. She decided instead to stick it out in the pit, trying to ignore what was going on around her.

"Must be glad he's back, huh, Slugger, so you don't have to stay saddled with an old man like me," Parker remarked when he came in.

"You aren't old Parker, and I was doing just fine."

"Fine, yes, that is exactly what I would call it," Parker shot back.

Gus didn't reply, shutting him out and going back to her files.

On edge enough later she was almost tempted to head up to Special Vics, Flack cornered her in the tiny homicide break room.

"What gives, Gus?" he said, pinning her between him and the counter where she had poured horribly viscous coffee.

"I don't know what you mean, Don, now if you will excuse me," she attempted to duck around him. He didn't yield, a formidable barrier between her and the pit. He stared down at her, his eyes pinning her as much as his frame was. "I just don't think you should be back at work."

Flack leaned down toward her, "I seem to remember you telling me last night that I needed to get off the bar stool and back into the land of the living. That was in between you saying something about things being a mistake and moaning my name, sunshine, so here I am." He looked down at her with a heated look that was ruined by his acerbic tone.

"This isn't you, now move." She shoved him back with more force than necessary, which he wasn't expecting.

Gus took his wavering to her advantage and stormed back into the pit, waiting for her anger to subside. It did, quickly enough, replaced by her cloak of numbness that had protected her over the past month. Parker studied her, watching as she went from fuming to emptiness, his eyes going over to Flack's desk, noticing the other man angrily flipping through case files. He shook his head, knowing enough to let sleeping dogs lie.

* * *

Around ten, Gus still toiling away at her desk despite it being her night off and nothing new on the case except for Sid having completed the autopsy finding a piece of glass embedded in the woman that oddly seemed to link her to the bar shooting, Flack came over to Gus' desk, towering over her in silence until she looked up. "What?" she snapped.

Flack gave a half sigh, "there's been another shooting, outside a nightclub in across town. We should check it out, think it's related."

Gus nodded, not saying anything because she didn't even know where to start, before following him out to the car in silence.

The drive across town was quick, but felt much longer since neither Flack nor Gus were willing to break the stoney silence between them. They excited into the chaos in front of the nightclub where Gus' resolve almost broke when she didn't hear Flack give some snarky commentary on the red velvet rope scene. Her anger and confusion came rushing back when she saw him flirting with several scantily clad women who had witnessed the shooting.

Mac and Stella showed up at the scene quickly enough, Gus starting to fill them in when she noticed the pair looking over her shoulder. She followed their gaze, her eyes lighting on Flack getting what appeared to be a phone number from a horsey looking bleach blond. She turned back, ignoring the looks on their faces. "Anyway, that's what I've got, but we'll see what Casanova was able to get out of my pretty pony over there."

Stella and Mac exchanged a look as Gus strode away to talk with a uniform. "You have any clue what that was about?" Stella asked.

"No, and knowing Gus, I don't want to, at least not yet," Mac replied, cutting off as Flack approached.

Gus decided to catch a ride back to the precinct with a uniform instead of waiting on Flack, the crime scene not having resulted in any homicides, even if it did result in the ominous message from the shooters seeming to extort the city into paying if they ever wanted to enjoy nightlife again. She was making a dent in her paperwork when Flack came storming back in.

"You just disappear on me? Not cool, Gus," he snapped coming back by her desk.

"I caught a ride with a boot, you seemed busy and I thought I would get some paperwork done so I could maybe actually get some sleep, seeing as I didn't get much last night," she shot back, standing up and staring him down.

"You didn't seem to mind then, sunshine," he fumed, inches away from her.

Gus started to protest, but the look he was giving her sent flames of lust rolling at her. "I, I just-" she stammered.

"You want a ride home?" he asked, huskily.

She nodded, readily following him out the door.

* * *

**Chapter 78: Hurricane Party**

Another night of bad choices and too much whiskey ended with both their phones buzzing early Sunday morning. They barely acknowledged each other as they hastily got ready and headed back to the precinct so Flack could change into clean clothes before heading to the body found three blocks from the scene from the day before.

"Looks like we found our missing security guard," Flack said as they stood over the bloodied body in the alley.

Gus nodded soberly, taking in the wound on the man's leg and the amount of blood everywhere. "I'll loop in Missing Persons, have them notify the wife."

Flack barely heard her, studying the body with grave scrutiny. He was in full cop mode. Gus made her phone call, keeping one eye on Flack the entire time. He was circling the body like a vulture. "Flack, what do you have?"

"I know I'm not a lab geek, but this looks like a blood trail to me," he pointed at the droplets of blood around the body. They both followed the trail up the alley, it leading back toward the highrise. Gus nodded, agreeing with Flack's supposition.

"I wonder if old Albert here had enough fight in him to follow our killer here," Gus said as they walked back to the body.

"Think she's the one to tell us that," Flack said, pointing at Stella who was coming up the alley, her kit in hand.

She scrutinized both detectives as walked up, both looking worn, Gus' expression more hollow than she had ever seen and Flack uncharacteristically unkempt. She had attempted to talk to Mac more about the pair's exchange in front of the nightclub, but Mac was far too obsessed with finding the shooters than commenting on either Don's or Gus' demeanor. "Find our security guard, huh? Seems like a bad place for a body dump, three blocks away."

Flack looped her in on his findings while Gus hung back, letting Stella take in the scene. The older woman did, with tenacity Gus would have found frightening if she could feel anything at the moment. Stella immediately jumped on the blood trail and Albert's wound, her supposition being that the blood trail belonged to the shooter, who had probably been shot in the arm by one of Mac's shots in the building.

"I don't get the missing sleeve, though," Flack said, pointing at the body.

Stella and Gus both looked down, their eyes meeting. "No blood trail leaves here..." Stella started in. "Shooter used the sleeve to bandage a wound," both women concluded at the same time. "This isn't a stain," Stella said, pointing at the blood on Albert's shirt, "it's spatter."

"It's blood from our shooter," Flack said, half questioning though he seemed to already know the answer.

Stella nodded, her curls bouncing. "I think Albert wounded our suspect, we need to get this back to the lab."

Gus finished up at the scene, telling Flack and Stella she would catch up with them later. There wasn't much more to do once again until the lab caught up, she was mostly just trying to avoid spending time with Flack. They needed to talk, rationally and soberly with all their clothes on, but that didn't seem like it was going to happen anytime soon. Gus was still consumed with survivor's guilt and crushed with jealousy over a dead woman who seemed to have a magnetic hold on Flack, she had a feeling it was much more than just that though. "Don, what is going on with you," she mumbled before heading back to the precinct.

Gus headed immediately up to the lab, refusing to get cornered in the pit by her fellow detectives or Flack, even though she knew the body probably hadn't even made it to Sid's table yet, let alone anyone have anything back on the shirt.

* * *

The lab was a flurry of activity for a Sunday, everyone on hand to try to track down the people responsible for the wounding of a cop and holding a big part of the city's income hostage. Feeling out of sorts and not wanting to interrupt, Gus headed towards Mac's office, hoping to hide in there for a bit. She was not shocked in the least to see Mac's collection of murder boards had grown to encompass every surface of his office. She was staring at them, wondering how obsessed her Uncle had become when he came in.

"Gus," he said, watching his niece deep in thought. She looked worn, as broken as she had the day he picked her up from the base after the Guard flew her in after the hurricane.

She turned to him, "hey, Mac, nice, uh work you got going here," she gestured 360 degrees around the room. Mac gave her a half-smile but didn't say anything, giving her the chance to open up.

When she didn't he finally started to move some boxes around, "want to sit, talk?" he suggested.

Gus shook her head, "nope, all good, just was checking on the case, waiting to hear back about the blood on the security guard's shirt."

"Hawkes is down getting it from Sid now, will probably be awhile. You want some coffee?"

Gus couldn't help but give her uncle a small smile, she had to give him his tenacity even if he couldn't normally expression concern. Of course she wasn't one to throw stones seeing as she was coping with everything by getting drunk, having base sex and shutting down. "Sure," she replied, willing to concede slightly.

They walked, Mac choosing tea over coffee, smirking at the face she made. "It's tea, not poison, you should try it sometime Gussie."

Gus shook her head, pouring cream into her coffee. "So how are things on the lab end?" she asked, taking a sip.

"You know about the glass Sid found in Jane Doe?" Mac asked. Gus nodded. "Crime scene clean up tech found new evidence in the elevator, swath of blood from the shooter."

"Found new evidence?" Gus cocked her head to the side, "as in Adam missed evidence?" she didn't sound like she believed it.

Mac shook his head, explaining that the temperature differential was what found it. "Waiting to see if there is a hit in CODIS now."

"That would be a nice damn break," she sighed.

Mac paused for a minute. "What is Don doing back?" he asked finally.

Gus looked at him over her cup, raising her eyebrows. "Your guess is a good as mine." She seemed to be contemplating how much to reveal. "At least at work we can keep our eyes on him."

"Does he need eyes on him?" Mac's gaze was penetrating enough to cause Gus to become entranced with the design on her cup. "I'll take that as a yes. What about you?"

"I've been through worse, I come from a place where we throw Hurricane Parties when the world is ending around us. Don't worry about me, Mac, just find your shooters," she strode out, Mac following close behind, not willing to give up on this conversation yet. He stopped short as he passed by one of the labs, a pretty brunette tech on the phone who looked a lot like their Jane Doe. His eyes took in her lab coat and badge, something clicking in his mind.

"Jane Doe was already in the building that night," he said, taking off in the opposite direction toward Danny and Lindsay. Gus stared after him bewildered, but happy he wasn't pressing her for more information.

Gus walked around a bit longer, realizing everyone was busy at work and she should probably do the same. She headed back to the pit, intent on filling out paperwork and ignoring everyone else. It was working until her phone rang, Hawkes reporting in on Adam's hit in CODIS on the shooter's blood and his belief that the shooter had left the scene with the knife still embedded in him. She walked over to Flack's desk, waiting for him to get off his phone call.

"There was a hit in CODIS, shooter's name is David Wilson, Sheldon thinks he was wounded badly by Albert, so it looks like we get to start making hospital calls," she said as soon as he hung up.

Flack nodded, already pulling out the directory. "Mac identified our Jane Doe, she's Risa Calaveras, Danny's running her brother Jake now."

They both dove into calling hospitals, striking out until Gus got in touch with Trinity General Hospital. She waved Flack over while speaking to the charge nurse. "So he came in as a John Doe dumped in front with a knife sticking out of him?" she nodded, her expression going from excitement to somber as she scratched on her notepad, turning it so Flack could see. _Died in surgery_ Flack read as he listened in to Gus asking for security footage.

"I'll send uniforms to get it as well as to drop by Jake Calaveras' place, Danny sent me his address."

Gus nodded, "I'll loop Stella and Mac in."

Both sets of uniforms were back quickly enough reporting Jake in the wind and handing Gus a DVD of footage. She headed to surveillance, Flack on her heels. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped in a small room with him in the dark. "I got this, why don't you try to run down Jake?" she suggested, trying to ignore the hurt in his eyes that quickly turned to anger.

"Fine, whatever," he said, storming off.

* * *

Gus quickly determined she was going to need the lab's help on the grainy footage, finally able to snag Sheldon to help her clean it up. "There, right there, we got his plate," Gus said, pointing at the car driving away. A few key strokes later and Gus was able to run the plate through DMV. "Tyson Menlo," Sheldon said, reading over her shoulder as she pulled up the record. "I'll get a warrant and get Flack, you tell Mac," Gus said, already on the phone as she headed back downstairs.

"You get something?" Flack asked as soon as she stepped back into the pit, his anger having dissipated.

Gus nodded, "yeah, getting a warrant now, found the third shooter, he lives over on Battery, we're going to need back up."

Flack sprung into action, readying up whoever was around and setting up the tactical plan. Gus waited for the warrant to come across the system, pacing in front of her desk. "We'll get it on the way, come on," Flack said, throwing a vest at her before moving towards the car.

They convened in front of the Menlo's building, Gus having pulled up the warrant to show the super to let them in the building, though the man didn't even glance at it, yielding easily to the detectives with hands on their weapons and faces set in grim determination. Gus slipped on her vest, tightening the velcro as much as she good, her mind going instantly back to the day in the diner with Doyle's much lighter formfitting vest fitting her like a glove. She caught Flack glancing her way, a heavy look passing between them saying things they hadn't bothered to speak out loud.

"Let's all be on our toes and smart in there," she said as the superintendent ushered them in and directed them to the third floor.

They busted into the apartment, with plenty of backup, both of them being more cautious than normal when it came to work, even if they were on a collision course personally. Jake Calaveres was there, a gun pointed squarely at his buddy's head, obviously he had figured out who had killed his sister.

Flack immediately tried to talk him down even as Gus' was disengaging the safety on her weapon. She paused, letting him take the lead and hoping it wouldn't go sideways.

"She wouldn't want you to get into any more trouble, Jake, she wouldn't want you to do something stupid!" Flack yelled. It was then Gus knew without a doubt that Flack had killed Cade. She turned to give him a look as Jake pulled the trigger on the gun he held. She whipped her head back, pulling her handcuffs out as Jake went down on his knees, his hands up in surrender. Gus cuffed him, barking his rights at him, giving Flack a piercing look before the light once again faded from her eyes as she hauled Jake down to a waiting patrol car.

* * *

**Chapter 79: Take it out on me**

Mac was waiting in booking and immediately took over questioning Jake Calaveres. Flack left without so much as a word or backward glance at her. Gus wondered if there would be any more late night calls or texts, or if he knew that she knew what he had done.

Gus slumped at her desk finishing up her paperwork while Mac finished up with Jake. Despite exhaustion setting in, Gus wasn't ready to go home yet. The silence in her apartment too much to bear, the weight of the nightmares more than she could handle. Since she was worrying about Lindsay and Danny, she decided to head up to the lab before heading out herself. Gus wasn't able to find either of them, but was happy to see Stella helping Mac box up the files he was obsessing over in his office since the night of the bar shooting. Both of their backs turned so they didn't see her standing there, lost in thought. She heaved a sigh, the loneliness and guilt crushing down on her once more. She turned, seeing Adam looking both at her and over her shoulder into Mac's office.

"Hey," Gus said, her voice more timid than she would have liked.

"Hey yourself, stranger," Adam said, making note that she had withdrawn from interacting with most of the team over the past month.

"How are you doing, Adam?" Gus asked, her expression sincere but empty.

"Let's see, got shot at a month ago, my friend is now in a wheelchair and I am having to pick up his slack, some crime scene clean up chick is trying to steal my job, one of my best friends won't return my phone calls since I told her I wanted to sleep with her and..." Adam trailed off, almost busting out about Stella's earlier rejection, but stopped himself just in time.

Gus forced laughter, scratching at her head, "yeah, about that..." she looked at him searchingly. "I'm an asshole," she shrugged finally.

Adam hated the wounded look in her eyes. "You wanna come over, I rented some movies and I actually cleaned and bought groceries." He didn't add that he had done it in the hopes that he could get Stella to come back to his place to duplicate their previous night together.

"Look at you being a real live adult, Adam." Gus paused, she craved the companionship, she just wasn't sure she deserved it They hadn't hung out since their awkward encounters or Angell's funeral. The only person she had any contact with outside of work was Flack, and that clearly wasn't healthy. She suppressed a shiver. No, she wasn't going there now, right now Adam was offering her a lifeline and she had to take it. "I would really, really like that Adam, more than you probably know." She gave him a small smile, "what I can bring?"

They settled in on the couch, deep into the movies, bellies full of food. Things had been going fine, except Gus had seemed a little jumpy all night until one scene put her over the edge. She jumped, and then cowered on the couch, looking a little like a wounded animal. Adam turned off the movie, realizing how much Gus was still suffering after the shootings. "That was so stupid, Adam, of course she freaked out, why couldn't you have rented romcoms instead," he mumbled under his breath.

It only took a couple of minutes for Gus to ground herself again, working on focusing on her breathing and being aware of where she was. "Sorry about that," she said, resting her hands on her knees and breathing shakily.

Adam rubbed her back, "It's okay."

"Glad you didn't rent romcoms, Adam, we both hate them," she said with a smile. Gus picked up the remote, pressing play.

"You sure?" Adam asked, his eyes full of concern.

Gus nodded, "Flood me, I have to get over it." She did, however, move closer to Adam.

They were talking later about demented genius of Tarantino and comparing him to old line film makers when Gus looked up at him from where she was lying, propped against the arm of the couch. "There's something different about you," she said, scrutinizing him.

"I think you could say that about all of us," he replied, though he did flush slightly. Gus just kept looking at him, trying to pinpoint it. If anything, he seemed more grounded and self-assured, where Gus' confidence had deflated like a day old balloon. Finally Adam couldn't take her stare any more. "I slept with Stella."

Gus pulled herself up to sitting and gaped at him momentarily before replying with, "I slept with Doyle. It was his vest, that's why I'm not dead. So much for an easy one night stand." She left off the part about her recent dalliances with Flack, not ready to admit she was so weak.

"We're both a mess, huh?"

"Hot mess," Gus agreed, thinking if only Adam knew exactly how much of a mess she was. She continued to stare at him, "are you going to keep sleeping with Stella?"

Adam shook his head violently, "nope, one time only deal, not going to happen again."

There was something in the way he protested that caught Gus' attention. "That was what she said, but you don't agree. That's why your place is clean for like the first time ever!"

"I hate when you do that," Adam grimaced.

"Do what?" Gus asked, innocently.

"Read me like an open book."

Gus smile at him, reaching over to ruffle his hair, "at least I didn't say you were an easy read."

They settled back in watching bad late night television, occasionally chatting until sleep overtook Gus' frame. Adam let her sleep, not wanting to disturb her and enjoying having his friend back, even if he had a feeling it was only temporary. He was happy he had told her about Stella, even if she did know what his innermost feelings were. She hadn't judged him, it wasn't in her nature, she was loyal to a fault.

Gus, of course, was right. Adam had wanted more with Stella, easily projecting his crush on Gus toward the gorgeous Greek, but Stell had made it clear today that wasn't going to happen. And now he had to worry about stinking perky Haylen Becall going after his job. What kind of name was Haylen Becall anyway? He almost woke Gus to talk it through with her, but a glance at the late hour convinced him otherwise. That didn't stop her phone to start buzzing from its place on the coffee table. Adam picked it up, seeing Flack's number displayed on the screen and wondering what the other detective wanted considering their case had been closed. He debated answering it as Gus stirred beside him, looking up with sleep filled eyes.

"Is that my phone?" she murmured, pulling herself up.

Adam nodded, handing over her phone, "it's Flack," he said. Adam watched as Gus' face changed into a mask of what it had been as she took the phone answering curtly.

"Yeah, really? Now? Are you, never mind, fine, I'll be right there," she hung up, pulling on her shoes.

"You alright?" Adam asked, concern in his eyes.

Gus gave a half-nod, "I'm fine, but I gotta go...deal with this," she said finally, "thanks for dinner and putting up with me, I'll cook for you soon, promise." She gave him a quick hug and pack on the cheek before she disappeared into the late hour.

* * *

Gus strode up to where Flack was waiting outside another dive bar, angry at him for calling her but more angry at herself for actually coming. "What was it this time, Don, forget your wallet in the pit? Forgot where you lived? Gracie's become too high-class for you?" She was fuming, but knew if she didn't go home with him, someone else certainly would and who knew what kind of trouble Flack would end up in.

"If I knew you were going to be a bitch, I would have gone home with that hot little redheaded who offered," Flack said, leaning against the building and stubbing out a cigarette.

"Those things will kill you, didn't you badger me until I quit?" Gus asked, her expression softening slightly at the pain in his eyes.

Flack gave a heavy sigh, wondering why he had called Gus, other than he couldn't sleep without her tucked beside him and the few hours he stole with her in the early morning hours was the only time he wasn't haunted by images of Jess. "Gotta go somehow," he smirked down at her.

"Your place or mine," she sighed, her resolve crumbling. Gus had waited months to get him back, this certainly wasn't how she wanted it, but she wasn't able to turn him down. Don Flack was firmly etched on her heart and soul and that connection wouldn't break even if it was hurting them both. She was more than willing to let him take it out on her.


	19. So Much Better

**Chapter 80: So Much Better**

Gus lay in the fading dark as the sky began to lighten outside. She had once again answered when Flack called, kicking herself as she did so, berating herself as she got in a cab to meet him. She slunk into a bar that neither of them would normally ever frequent just in time to prevent Flack from getting in a fight with someone's boyfriend armed with a pool cue. It was getting worse and she knew it, Flack was on a collision course for sure and she wasn't sure if she could save him. Not to mention he had been out of it at work, constantly lost in thought, not hearing people until they said something three or four times. She had a whole conversation with Mac just the other day at a crime scene before Flack even realized Mac had shown up.

He had also been increasingly on edge, his trademark sarcasm turning more and more into spite. She had made the mistake of mentioning him finally wearing a suit to work again the other day and he about took her head off telling her he could dress himself. She had never been so happy to have to deal with Department of Child Services at a crime scene as she had been that day.

Gus felt conflicted the entire Benton case, wanting to keep an eye on Flack but not wanting to get too near him since he was turning mean as a snake. At least Adam took most of the lead in the case, getting to put his nerd skills to good use and save the day. She was proud of him and told him as much when she cooked him dinner afterward. He was slightly bashful, but not nearly as flustered as he would have been even a couple of months before. Stella had interjected him with greatly needed confidence.

"I like this new Adam Ross," she said, clearing their plates.

Adam followed her into the kitchen, "not new, I'm still the same old me."

Gus shot him a look while loading the dishwasher. "Whatever you say, sugar, but if you ask me you seem to have a lot more swagger."

Adam rolled his eyes, but grinned from ear to ear.

A while later, after they had caught up on Haylen's attempts to steal his job, Danny's regained feeling in his feet, Lindsay's troubles with her nanny, Mac's connection to the Beton case because of his father's death, even broaching the subject of Stella and a couple of rounds of Mario Kart later, Adam finally decided to tackle something he had pondered over the past week or so.

"So that other night, was Flack okay?" Adam asked, setting down his Wii controller.

Gus almost choked on her wine, not expecting him to bring it up. "I think that is a matter of perspective, darlin'," she answered without answering.

Adam wrinkled his brow, trying again. "Does Flack do that a lot, call you in the middle of the night to meet him?"

"Only since Jess' died," Gus volleyed back, chewing on the inside of her cheek and wondering how much he was going to press the issue.

"And you always go to him?" Adam looked at her with such genuineness, Gus couldn't do anything but nod. "It's just, I see him at work with you, Gus and it is so so different from how it was. He's getting kind of mean and I just want to make sure he isn't using you, isn't hurting you."

Gus knew Adam was thinking more about his bully of a father, of her messed up relationship with Gage before she moved to New York. She knew he was coming from a place of concern, but she didn't feel he had all the facts and she wasn't about to give them to him. "Don is not a bully, Adam. He needs time and..." she trailed off, "he needs what he needs and if I can help him I will. I can handle it."

Adam looked at her disbelieving, "what if he needs more than you?"

"I love him, Adam, more than I have ever loved anyone or could love anyone. I know I left him, but I never should have because it left an opening for Jess and I'm sure Don was falling in love with her, how could he not, but I can't give up believing that there isn't part of him deep down that can't remember that he loved me first. And that I'm still here and I will be here for him, whenever, no matter what." Gus took a deep breath and then finished her wine, looking at Adam with sad green eyes.

He wanted to pull her into his lap like she was a child, that was how broken she looked, but he knew she wouldn't take kindly to that. Instead he leaned forward, his forehead resting against hers. "Just make sure he is worth it, Gus."

"He is, Adam, he is," she sighed, pulling back, "I'm just not sure we can get back to where we were."

Adam, ran his hands through his hair, not knowing how to fix her, "you just said it yourself, he needs time. He would be an imbecile to not want you, all of you." Gus gave him a small smile, looking worn. "I should get going, try to get some sleep tonight."

* * *

Gus walked Adam to the door, finished her cleaning up and actually had gotten some of the suggested sleep when Flack called her out to that godforsaken hole in the wall. She realized halfway there this was the most sober she had been for any of their hook ups, having spent more time talking with Adam than drinking. Not having to drink herself through shoot 'em up movies had helped as well. Which is probably how she was able to handle the mountain of terror waving the pool cue at Flack.

After the mountain and his girlfriend walked off to collect the drinks Gus had bought as a peace-offering, she attempted to collect Flack. "Don, you ready to call it a night?"

"Not really," he said, looking up at her from the booth he had slumped in.

"Can you at least come drink at my place, I am stickiing to the floor in here and I am pretty sure you haven't made any friends," Gus pleaded, trying to pull him in her direction.

He flung her off, "I've made friends, there was Tiffany and Shelly, and those biker twins..." He gave her a grin and waggled his eyebrows.

"Maybe you should focus on making friends that can't give you hepatitis. Now can we please go because I am not liking the way that guy with the face tattoo is eying me." Gus hoped the change in tactic would work.

This at least got him out of the booth to look for the offender. He pulled Gus to him looking down at her with hunger in his eyes, "I can protect you, babe, I'm a cop, remember."

Gus had enough faculties to resist, though barely, as she ran her hand around the hem of his shirt, "yeah, a cop without his badge or his gun."

Flack followed her hand and gave her a grin, "oh yeah, didn't think they would like cops too much in here."

"I'm sure you're right, sugar," Gus said, seeing several of the patrons staring at them since hearing the 'c' word. Gus decided to play things differently, in a last-ditch effort to get him out the door. She reached up, pulling him down towards her, giving him a heated kiss while moving her body as close to his as she could while still clothed. It wasn't something she would normally ever do in public, but she was pretty sure she wouldn't be running into any of these people socially again and she was running out of ideas on how to get out of there without making a scene. "So what was it you were calling me for again, blue eyes?" she said coquettishly.

His eyes glazed with lust, her kiss having done the trick. "What was that about continuing this at your place?" Flack said, his hands cupping her bottom until she broke away and headed toward the door.

Flack all but tried to mount her in the backseat of the cab, and for the first time in a while, Gus was fully present in her state of mind and felt a little embarrassed for them both. There was still part of her greatly enjoying his touch, his hands and lips knowing just where to go and how to make her weak.

Something about being on her turf and sober enough helped to steel Gus slightly as Flack tried to remove more of her clothing. "Flack, hold on, I think we should..." he kept going, even as she struggled against him. "Flack, damn it, stop, Don, please." Something in her tone must have gotten through to him. He stopped, as they stood in the living room, both of their shirts thrown off in a pile with their shoes, his jeans unbuttoned, her pants pulled low on her hips, both of them breathing heavy.

"I'm worried about you, Don," she whispered, reaching up to trace his jaw line.

Something about her expression, something about the sincerity in her eyes reminded him of all the good times they had shared, how much they had loved each other. He covered her hand against his face with his own, something inside him breaking free. Gus saw the change as it occurred, his eyes clouding with unshed tears. "I miss her, I didn't know it was going to be this hard."

"I know," she said, leading him over to her sofa. He fell into it as much as he sat.

"I shot Cade," he said, falling into her arms.

"I know," she repeated, stroking his hair as his tears finally broke loose.

"I mean, I didn't have to shoot him, he was down. I killed him!" He looked up at her, wounded beyond anything she had ever seen.

"I know, Don, I know, just let it out," she cradled him as he sobbed, broken, her own tears falling just as freely.

When he finished, Flack pulled himself out of Gus' arms, looking at her own red eyes and cheeks wet with tears. Despite his own anguish, he hated that he was causing her pain. Flack wished he could snap his fingers and put his grief aside and pick back up with her, but he couldn't. He couldn't decipher if it was because he loved Jess' more than he realized or if it was because he had betrayed everything he ever knew or believed in when he put that bullet in Simon Cade's head. Flashes of that day starting playing in his mind, the endless bad movie he couldn't turn off...

Gus could see the change, as Flack went from thoughtful to zombie, she knew what was happening, the frames of film moving through his mind. The same thing had happened to her, seeing her mother bloody on their kitchen floor, her friend Spencer's burned body thrown over the gate in Malawi, the flood waters rising in the prison hospital with men drowning or getting shot by the guards. She shook it off, she had to stay stronger than Flack. "Look at me, Don, you're safe, you're here."

It was enough to snap him out of it, her voice a buoy in raging, open waters. He looked at her, the worry etched on her face. He reached out to brush the tears from her face, to smooth out the wrinkle in her brow. He leaned in, his lips touching hers tenderly for the first time in what seemed like ages, not the hungry, savage kisses he had stolen the past couple of months.

Gus almost pushed him away, sensing the change in the way he approached her. It was what she had wanted, to go back to the before, but she knew he wasn't ready yet. Her body and heart wouldn't agree with her mind though, so as he lifted her up, her legs snaked around his body as they had countless times before. And as he carried her to the bedroom and gently laid her down on the bed, his body covering hers like a shelter, she couldn't be the stronger one.

This was how Gus couldn't sleep, was awake as dawn crept into her bedroom. She felt trapped, and not just because Flack was asleep on top of her, his arms wrapped around her as if he would drown if he let go. Usually they went back to his place, making it easy for her to escape like a thief in the night. On the rare occasion they had ended at her place, he was gone soon after the act was complete. Last night had been different, in so many ways, and Gus didn't know how to approach it or handle it. She stroked Flack's hair, trying to sort out the latest mess in her life.

The spell broke was Flack's eyes shot open and he realized where he was. Gus looked down at him, her mouth open to say something until she realized he was already up and throwing back on his clothes. "Wait, let me make you breakfast."

"Can't, gotta go," he said, hunting for his shirt.

"Living room," she answered, her heart dropping to her stomach as she realized the walls were all firmly back in place. She pulled the sheet off the bed, wrapping herself in it and following him to the living room where he was putting on his shoes. "Don, please, can we talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about, sunshine," Flack snapped. Gus recoiled, there was no endearment in his use of her nickname, only bitterness. "Pretty sure you were the one that told me this was a mistake." The ice in his eyes stabbed at Gus' heart.

"Yes, but no, please, we should talk!" she begged.

After finishing button his shirt, he closed the distance between them, leering at her as much as he was looking at her. "Seems to me, babe, we've done so much better the past few months doing anything but talking. Maybe we should keep it that way." With that, he gave her one last rough kiss and was gone with a slamming of the door.

* * *

**Chapter 81: This Train**

Gus took the couple of days off coming to her after finishing up with the Benton case and a B&E gone sideways, relieved to not have to see Flack in the pit and pretend like everything was just fine. She wasn't sure if he took time off as well, all she did know was that there were no late calls from him. This caused her more unease than their sleeping together. Stupid and rash, yes, but at least they had history, at least they were safe. God only knows what Flack would get into or up to without her running to him every time he called. Which only highlighted how bad the situation was.

She attempted to catch up with some of the team, but in reality felt relief when all of them were busy. She spent the couple of days cleaning, wallowing and watching bad tv, not leaving her place. She was beginning to think Eduardo might call her employers to do a wellness check on her if she didn't show her face soon when the call came the next morning.

"Broussard," she answered, her Lieutenant's number flashing on her screen.

"I'm sending a patrol car your way, Gus, body found swinging from the rafters out on Ellis Island."

"Swinging, suicide, why did we get it?" Gus asked, already turning on the shower for a quick rinse.

"National monument, private tour found the body, got to make sure everything is above-board. I'll have Flack meet you out there, assuming he ever answers his damn phone." Daddino paused, clearing his throat, "you, ah, he isn't by chance with you, huh, Broussard?"

"No, Tony, he is not," she said, hanging up and slipping under the hot spray of water.

Gus met the uniform down at the patrol car, getting in with barely a word. The uniform tried valiantly to make small talk with Gus, the younger woman clearly interested in earning her gold shield. Gus answered her questions curtly, all while wondering where Flack was.

She instructed the uniform to cordon off the scene, taking statements from the obviously shaken tour guide and members. She was almost finished when Flack finally arrived looking like he hadn't shaved or slept. Gus just raised her eyebrows at him, thanking the man she was interviewing for his time.

"Dario Gonzales, night guard, has worked here for a while. Never late, always does his job without complaining, picks up extra shifts when he can. Supervisor is on his way, said Gonzales has a wife and two kids. I was about to call her because there is nothing I love before coffee than ruining someone's life."

"I'll do it, you got the number?" Flack said, looking antsy. Gus gave it to him, studying the body as Flack made the call.

Gus sighed, shaking her head at the uniform who was about to start fawning over Flack the second he hung up his phone. "Eva, wasn't it?" she said, walking over to the woman, who nodded. "Why don't you walk the perimeter, try out your future detective skills?" The woman rushed off, eager to help.

Gus went back to Flack, who was staring up at the body, lost in thought. "Long night?" she asked, taking in his appearance. He merely gave her a grunt in response, further discussion cut down by the arrival of the CSI team. She decided to join Officer Nelson walking the perimeter while the team processed the scene.

Nothing came of the perimeter search, leaving Gus dejected. She slunk back into the building, observing the flurry of activity.

"You just gonna stand there gawking all day?" Flack snapped, coming up beside her.

She glared at him in reply, her anger coming to a rapid boil, though she shoved it down, figuring he was probably over compensating for his vulnerability the other night. "Do you have any other suggestions, Detective Flack?" she said, her voice icy.

Flack was already walking away as he curtly replied, "vic's cell phone is missing, Adam traced it to Battery Park, time to go deal with some tourists."

"According to the signal, Gonzales' cell phone is right, here," Gus said, stopping in front of a trash can with a sigh. She slipped on a pair of gloves, before digging through the can to emerge with the now sticky phone. "Guess I should be glad it wasn't a dumpster."

"Good news is there is lots of surveillance, bad news is there is a lot of surveillance to wade through," Flack said, pointing at the cameras while glaring at a tourist who jostled him while trying to take pictures on their cell phone. "God I wish you could arrest for stupidity."

Gus actually welcomed the chance to sit in the A/V pit with Flack, hoping she could get him to talk about the other night, it didn't go as well as she planned though.

"Damn tourists, nothing but idiots in those damn heart sweatshirts complaining about the prices of things. If you don't like it, go the hell back to Ohio!" Flack grumbled as they watched footage filled with nothing but crowd shots.

"We shouldn't have expected anything else. Guess it is hurry up and wait on the lab again. What do you make of the note?"

"That fast buck thing, maybe he was in to some kind of scam, wife didn't seem to know anything," Flack said, fast forwarding through the footage.

Gus decided to make an opening. "So did you take a couple of days off?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Flack gave a half shrug, "yeah, sort of, what about you?"

Gus nodded, "laundry was starting to pile up, had some bad tv to catch up on." She paused, waiting for him to keep the conversation going, when he didn't she pressed on. "I was a little worried when I didn't hear from you after the other night." She forced herself to look at him, getting nothing but his jaw clenching over and over.

"We ain't a couple, Broussard, I don't have to check in with you," Flack snapped.

Gus took the hit, even if it made her crumble on the inside. "I know, it's just...the other night seemed different. Not just because of the sex, and even though we shouldn't be doing it, I still...I thought maybe you were making a break through, and I didn't want you to lose your momentum. I get the grief is a continuum, I just worry that you might be-"

Flack cut her off, turning to give her an icy glare. "Don't turn into a damn shrink on me again, Broussard, you want that, you can go back to your fancy office upstairs. I told you I am fine and I have nothing to talk about, why the hell does nobody believe me? Yes it sucks that Angell died, but she was a cop and cops die, she knew the risk she was taking. Maybe it just reminded me I don't know when the big guy is going to call my number and I decided to live a little, stop being Mr. Walk the Line. So just get off my case. You don't want to keep sleeping with me, fine, don't. I ain't forcing you sweetheart, and believe me there are plenty of other pieces of ass out there for me to choose from. Ones without all your hangups."

"So that is all I am to you, a piece of ass? After everything we have been through, I mean that little to you?" Gus was on her feet, her voice rising as her anger grew. "This train isn't exactly an easy ride, Flack. People are worried about you because they care about you, I care about you!"

Flack and his voice rose as well, "maybe you just need to stop caring a little less about me. You left me, you broke my heart, you had your chance," he was yelling now, pointing his finger in accusation, barely stopping short of poking her, "get over it, move on, I did."

"Over it, moved on? Really, then why all the jealousy and over protectiveness? What about that night before our rotation together when you said you never stopped loving me, that doesn't really sound over it to me, Don!" Gus yelled back, her emotions spinning out of control.

Flack lowered his voice, this more menacing than his yelling, "well it wasn't you that I spent the night with that night now was it?"

"Screw you, Flack, just, Screw you!" Gus roared, storming out with a giant slam of the door behind her.

She exited into the pit to stares. Judging by the looks she was getting and Daddino beckoning her from his office door, the A/V room wasn't as insulated as she thought. "Damn it!" she swore, storming his way.

"Yes, please Tony, give me that new partner," Gus said, standing in front of her Lieutenant's desk, tapping her foot.

"Not going to happen, Broussard, everyone else has already refused to work with him. I thought you could handle him, reign him in, but maybe I was wrong." Daddino looked at her expectantly. "Maybe I need to put him on leave."

Gus looked at him in horror, only able to imagine what trouble Flack would get into if put on mandatory leave. "No, don't do that, it will be fine. I can handle it, him. That in there, was totally my fault, I was being a bitch, must be PMSing or something."

Daddino looked at her, clearly not believing a word she said, but it was true, every other detective said they would call in sick before working with Flack. "I don't want to hear about your lady parts, Broussard. Look, I think Mac is going back to the scene, see if they missed anything, why don't you head over there with him, give him another set of eyes? Check in with Flack when you get back, maybe he'll have gotten something with surveillance or ferry tickets by then."

Gus nodded, feeling dejected, but glad she had circumvented Flack getting put on leave.

* * *

She met Mac out by his truck, him giving her a long look. "Daddino said you needed some fresh air?"

"Er, sure. Thought you could use a feminine perspective," Gus forced a smile and tried to sound perky.

"On our male victim?" Mac said with a smirk, but not pressing the issue.

There wasn't much different about the scene, as far as Gus could tell, on the second go round, though who knew what Mac got from the visit. Other than the extremely brash much talked about crime scene cleanup tech throwing herself at Mac. Gus stood back as Haylen kept trying to chip away at her Uncle, a bemused smile on her face. There were many ways to approach Mac Taylor, but Gus wasn't so sure the younger female was picking the best way. Gus wasn't about to warn her, the woman essentially gunning for Adam's job, after all. Gus did have to give her tenacity, especially when Haylen pulled out the grant she had applied for and received.

"What do you think?" Mac asked on their way back to the lab and precinct.

"About what?" Gus replied, innocently.

Mac gave her a look. "You know what, do you think I should hire her?"

Gus gave a small snort, "I don't think she has given you much choice, Mac, she all but hired herself with that grant stunt."

"I'm not a fan of feeling like I don't have control over my lab."

"You could have stopped that sentence after control," Gus said with a laugh.

"True enough. There is something about her though..." Mac trailed off.

"Yes, gorgeousness, perkiness, oh so perfect academic record and that's not even mentioning she has the persistence of a hound dog going after a bitch in heat."

Mac gave her a smile, "I was going to say she reminded me a little of you."

Gus flushed, "er, yes, that then, must be the blond thing."

Mac raised his eyes, "must be."

"You aren't going to get rid of Adam, are you?" Gus looked at him with wide and worried eyes.

Mac shook his head, "Adam isn't going anywhere, why does everyone keep worrying about that? As I told Miss Bacall, even if I did hire her, there probably would not be anything after a year, but she did secure funding for a year and that shows initiative."

"Yes, initiative is exactly the word I would use," Gus mumbled.

"Augusta, don't take whatever is going on with you out on some poor tech. Are you planning on filling me in on what is going on with you?"

Gus sighed, "just stuff, you know. And yes, I suppose you should hire her, it is free labor and you can't turn that down. Just be careful, her initiative may make her more enemies than friends in the lab, Uncle Mac."

Mac raised his eyebrows again, "I have a feeling she can handle her own."

"I didn't say it was her I was worrying about," Gus said as they pulled into his parking spot.

* * *

**Chapter 82: When It Rains**

Gus walked through the pit, catching sight of Stella and Flack interviewing someone. She stopped, trying to figure out what she had missed in her trek back out to the crime scene.

She was able piece together that Dario Gonzales apparently was picking up extra cash bilking tourists with card games and one of the other Three Card Monty guys was less than pleased at having somebody else in his territory. Gus hadn't ever given much thought to the con men working near the ferries, it was usually a fairly victimless crime and a misdemeanor not worth the time or paperwork. Judging by their harsh interrogation, however Gus surmised that Stella and Flack thought Curtis had something to do with Dario's murder, given that the man had already done time for assaulting him.

Gus watched raptly at the scene unfolding before her. Stella was her usual razor edged self, but Flack...Gus suppressed a shiver. She couldn't pinpoint if she was attracted to or repulsed by the way Flack was questioning Curtis, and this frightened her. Gus knew she needed to step back from the situation, focus on it just being about work, otherwise Daddino might end up taking both their badges. This was nearly impossible for her to do, however, Flack was more than just an ex to get over, he was the missing puzzle piece that helped complete everything. She shook herself back into the present, the first thing she had to tackle was getting their work partnership back on track before Flack found himself on leave

"Nice work," Gus said, as Flack came out of the interview room with Stella staying behind for a handwriting sample. Gus hoped if she pretended nothing had happened early so would he.

Flack shrugged, "not that it helped, didn't get anything out of him. The scene choke up anything else?"

Gus gave an inward sigh of relief. Maybe he wasn't so far gone. "Nope, not a damn thing except some perky little clean up tech trying to steal Adam's job," Gus replied.

Flack smirked, "she still at that?" He looked everywhere except directly at Gus, though he was grateful she didn't seem to be bringing up their argument in surveillance earlier. Daddino had given him an earful, though he had only listened to every third word the Lieutenant was throwing at him. The man had gotten his point across, work with Gus or don't work at all.

"Seems that way," Gus tried to ignore the fact that Flack couldn't seem to make eye contact with her. At least they weren't yelling at each other. "Looks like it is up to the lab. Guess we should go return the media calls that I am sure have piled up. Did he really have to string that guy up on Ellis freaking Island?" Gus sighed.

"Murderers are so inconsiderate these days," Flack smirked back, a small slice of his former wit coming though, enough to give Gus a kernel of hope at least until Cliff Angell came walking into the pit a while later.

Gus pretended to be captivated in her phone call with some grating reporter, all while truly listening in on the conversation happening over at Flack's desk. Her heart dropped a little upon hearing Cliff invite Don over to the Angell's house for an old fashioned Sunday dinner to mark what would have been Jess' birthday. Gus was expecting Flack to decline, making up some excuse, so she almost fell out of her chair when she heard him tell Cliff to count him in. Gus quickly righted herself, but not before Parker shot her look. "You okay over there, Slugger?"

"I'm fine, you got any more donuts over there?" Gus sighed, needing the sugar, trying to ignore Flack's frame slumped at his desk as Cliff Angell left the precinct. He was putting on a good show, that was for sure, but Gus knew all too well what was happening behind the curtain.

* * *

One day bled into the next with Mac getting a compass delivered to his desk, matching the one found on the first victim. Gus was beyond exhausted as she, Flack, and several uniforms worked on searching high-profile locations across the northern segment of the city. Mac was sure the killer was trying to point them to another victim, but after hours of searching and cross-referencing missing person reports, they had come up empty.

She caught a couple of hours of sleep in the crash room and had just exited the locker room after a shower when Flack caught up to her. "You even try to sleep?" she asked, taking in his even more disheveled appearance.

"Tried and failed, but Mac's got something for us. Apparently there was some trace on the compass, some fancy plant over at the gardens in the Bronx. We're heading over there now." Flack strode off without so much as a backwards glance, leaving Gus to practically run to catch up.

The search of the gardens turned up nothing, leading Gus, Mac, and Flack to the closed for renovations conservatory. None of them shocked to see the woman's body hanging there, though Mac seemed distraught they were too late.

"Mac, I'm sure Professor Plum had already offed her before he sent you the compass," she said, trying to find some levity in the situation. Both men just stood with grim faces. "Can't believe I wasted a perfect Clue joke on y'all. I'm going to go see who I can rouse to find out who she is and how she got in."

Gus was able to quickly connect with the directory of the garden guild. The man shakily identified the woman as Carole Hillcroft, patron of the guild and widow who had last been to the gardens the evening before. Flack had already found signs of breaking and entering on the back door of the building and was directing the uniforms to canvass Carole's contacts.

The team was already hard at work on the scene, leaving Gus feel at a loss about what to do next. She barely registered Flack talking to Mac and Stella saying, "if you guys don't need me to stick around, I got a bunch of 5s to type back up at the precinct."

She only processed it when she heard Mac say, "go ahead, Don, we got it." Gus moved closer in time to hear Stella half mutter, "you know he used to shave every day,"

He'll get through this," Mac stated simply, "it just takes time."

They both looked over at Gus. "What?" she asked, her brow furrowed while contemplating her next move.

Stella gestured with her chin in Flack's direction, "you can go help him, it's going to take a while to process the scene."

Gus sighed, heading after Flack, even though she figured he was going to brush her off. "Hey, Don, wait up!" she called after him as he headed to his car. He turned, looking more through her than at her. "Since when are you the one to do the paperwork? I can get it."

Flack gave her a curt nod, before softening slightly. "Actually, I have someplace I need to be, can you cover for me?"

Gus realized it was Sunday night, the night he was expected at the Angell's for dinner. "Yeah, of course, always," she closed the distance between them, giving his arm a squeeze and trying to not take it personally when he bristled at her touch, "call me later if you, uh, yeah...drive safe, Don." She held her hand up to say goodbye as he got into his car and sped away.

She was tempted to follow him, but knew she would be awfully conspicuous in a patrol car, not to mention Flack would spot a tail in a hot minute. Gus knew she had to just let him go, even if it meant him spending the night reminiscing with the Angell family about how wonderful Jess was. Despite their minute breakthrough the other night, her argument with Flack in the surveillance room made it clear Flack was battling too many ghosts at the moment. She resigned herself to just picking up the pieces when he fell apart as she flagged down a uniform to take her back to the precinct.

Gus had finished all the paperwork she could but was still sitting in the pit, unable to force herself to go home, half believing Flack would call when he was done at the Angell's or at the bar he was sure to hit up after. Mac had already harrassed her to go home twice, telling her there was nothing more to be done until Sid finished autopsy and he probably wouldn't even get to it until the next day. One shift change had already occurred, and Mac was worried Gus would still be sitting at her desk through another one. He was about to demand she go home for the third time when Sid called.

Gus finally gave up sitting at her desk, knowing Mac would bug her until she went home and she didn't want to have another conversation with him about how he was concerned. Concerned Mac could turn into righteous Mac in a heartbeat, and she didn't have the fortitude to deal with that. All her energy reserves were being put into not falling off the edge herself and worrying about Flack.

* * *

Flack sat in front of the brick house for hours, watching the scene unfold inside. He watched Cliff and the rest of Jess' family reminisce, sharing happy memories of their daughter and sister. He lost count of how many times they toasted her throughout the long dinner, though he wished he had brought a flask to toast her on his own. He couldn't bring himself to get out of the car and walk up those steps and knock on the door. No matter how he tried to act like he was fine when faced with Cliff Angell in the precinct. He wasn't fine. He missed Jess, not just for their blossoming relationship, but also for his partner and friend, they had shared plenty of good times long before they had ever slept together. It was more than that though, he missed so much of his old life and he was worried he would never get anything close to it back. Happiness, contentment, restfulness, all of that seemed to be slipping further and further out of his reach. Gus kept trying to throw him a lifeline, but he couldn't make himself hold on, he didn't deserve it. He was a murderer, no better than the scum he put away, even if Cade had killed Jess, would have popped one in his own head if he had reached his gun in time...Flack shook his head, he couldn't keep thinking about that moment, the true moment when everything came crashing down around him. Yes, he had been falling in love with Jess and yes, he was willing to avenge her death no matter what the consequence. But he also loved Gus, so why did he keep pushing her away, why was he hurting her and himself? Would that wipe the slate clean on Cade? Was his salvation in staying miserable? Flack took a deep breath before turning the key in the ignition and driving away from the idyllic family scene occurring in front of him.

Sitting at home wasn't any better than at the precinct, Gus just kept pacing, wearing a pattern into the floor and probably driving her downstairs neighbor insane. She realized she was waiting for her phone to ring, for a drunk Flack to call her to come get him, to bail him out, to save him. And she would, despite their argument, despite knowing better, despite everything, Gus was determined to be there for him no matter what price she had to pay. She hoped her efforts would be rewarded one day, when Flack climbed out of this pit he was in, no, they were in and maybe...Gus shook her head with a sigh, no it wouldn't be that simple. She knew Don and knew he would keep punishing himself for killing Cade, even though any cop on the force probably would have done the same, even sanctimonious Mac. Whether he was in love with Jess or not, his descent into destruction had little to do with Jess and more to do with his inner guilt. Gus desperately wanting to quiet his demons, but she knew despite her best efforts, she wasn't that strong, all she could do was sit and wait and try to remember how to hope.

Time slipped by and Flack didn't call her, not at closing time, not after. Gus was torn between relief and worry. Maybe he had just gone to the Angell's, maybe it had done him some good and he then went home and got his well needed sleep. Something in Gus' gut didn't believe this though, which is why she picked up the phone and dialed his number despite the so late it was an early hour. It rang and rang, not even clicking over to voice mail, her heart sinking with each hollow ring. When Flack didn't show up for work the next day, she covered for him, even though she was sure Daddino didn't believe her. She tried him again and again, from her cell, from the precinct line, from his own desk, all to no avail until the ringing stopped and his phone started just going to voice mail. Seeped in worry and panic, but not knowing how to approach things without landing Flack on forced leave, Gus headed up to the lab to seek the help of someone she hoped she could trust.

"Of course I can track Flack's phone, my question is why do I need to?" Adam asked, seeming more flustered than he had in months. Gus worried his mojo was wearing off since Stella had made it clear there would be no repeat performance, not to mention Haylen was fighting tooth and nail to impress Mac.

"What part of no questions asked did you not get, Adam?" Gus asked, now pacing in his lab, alternating on chewing on her lip and fingernail.

"Gus, I want to help you, you have to know that," he ran his fingers through his curls and bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, looking at his friend with concerned aqua eyes.

"So help me, work your magic and tell me where Flack is," Gus said, her voice low as she came to a brief rest beside him.

"I am not that much of a magician, I can only tell you where is phone is, if it is on. Didn't you say it kept going to voice mail? Shouldn't we tell Mac or your Lieutenant about this?" Adam looked around to see if anyone was observing them.

"Please, Adam!" Gus begged, looking like she was about to cry.

Adam felt his resolve crumbling, "I want to help you, and I am worried about Flack too, everyone is, which is why I think we should tell Mac. I can do it, but I don't know if I should, especially since Mac hired Haylen," he gestured toward the lab where Haylen was batting her eyelashes at Mac.

"Mac did not hire Haylen, she hired herself with her stupid grant and he would be a fool to not take free help. Who is going to know anyway? I know you know how to cover your tracks. I will owe you one big time, Adam, and I would never ask this otherwise."

Gus leaned on the buzzer at Flack's building one more time, Adam tracing the phone to his apartment, still on, just not receiving calls. "Jesus Christ, woman, he either ain't home or ain't gonna answer!" Flack's bottom floor neighbor yelled at her through his window, hearing the constant buzzing. Gus glared up at the man, the look on her face prompting him to continue, "hold your horses, I'll buzz you in."

Gus knocked on his door, the cop knock echoing both in the apartment and down the hallway. She was positive she wasn't making any friends with his neighbors. Maybe he had left the phone there and was out god knows where without it. A thousand horrific scenarios played through her head and Gus was starting to wish she had looped Mac in when she heard the door open a crack, the chain holding it mostly closed.

"What the hell are you doing here, Gus?" Flack asked, his face shadowed by a beard and dark circles under his eyes.

"Checking sure you weren't dead you jerk! Did you forget something important, like showing up to work today?" Gus was an exhausting combination of relieved and furious.

Flack gave a small grunt, "everyone keeps saying I need some time off, so I'm taking it."

"You could pick up your freaking phone and call us or answer me-" she broke off, catching a whiff, "Jesus Flack, how much have you had to drink? You smell like a moonshine still in the backwoods!"

"Nice chatting with you, Broussard, I'll see you at work in a couple of days." He slammed the door shut, loudly clicking the dead bolts into place, not answering Gus' subsequent pounding.

* * *

**Chapter 83: Blues at Bay**

Gus waiting out in front of the high-rise, uniforms buzzing around her working on the initial canvas and securing the scene as neighbors leaving for work stopped in their tracks. She was tapping her foot anxiously as Flack walked up. "Nice of you to join us, picked a good case to come back to, wife already confessed."

Flack looked at her, his emotions playing out clearly on his face, flitting from sheepish to annoyed until he put on his blank mask, letting Gus know she'd been shut out. He had taken three days off, all he could handle without going stir crazy in his apartment. He hadn't even meant to take those, but the truth was, after not being able to walk up the steps at the Angell's, he had gone through a bottle of whiskey at home trying to keep the blues at bay and had slept through his alarm. He only woke up when Gus started banging on his door, her fist of fury the only thing to sound louder than the pounding in his head. He was then too embarrassed to admit his failings, not to mention the way he had treated her in surveillance. "Confessed?" was all he managed to get out with Gus' looking at him with more concern than he could bear.

Gus nodded as she led him into the building and up the elevator. "Deborah Carter, married to Kevin, the diseased, for seven years. Talk about the seven year itch, apparently she had warned if him he ever cheated, she would kill him. He did and she was true to her word, stabbed him umpteen times, bled out on the spot. My favorite part, she left him and spent the night at the Ritz before coming into the precinct this morning to report it, after enjoying a spa breakfast." Gus shook her head in disbelief as they stood over the body, "I got a uniform sitting on her now in the bedroom, she still needs to be Mirandized, you want the honors?"

"Sure, you loop them in yet?" Flack jutted his chin towards Mac and the rest of the team.

"Was just about to do that when you called in," Gus looked like she was going to say more, but didn't, ending the conversation by walking away.

Mac just looked at her with raised eyebrows, she had covered for Flack the past few days and everyone was full of questions she refused to answer.

"He's fine, Mac. Now this seems pretty open and shut, Deborah confessed, Flack is reading her her rights now, you'll confirm her story with the scene, and boom, we are free for lunch."

Mac gave her a small smile, "don't let Danny hear you using his catch phrase."

"If the boom fits..." Gus trailed off as Flack brought Deborah Carter in.

"I'm going to check on the canvas," she said, sidestepping Flack and Mrs. Carter. Mac's eyes briefly followed her before turning back to the pair before him.

She returned in time to hear Mac talking on his phone to Stella, and judging by the wrinkle in between his eyebrows, her open and shut case was going down the drain. Flack was shoving Deborah at a uniform with clear annoyance. "What did I miss?" Gus asked.

"She says she did it, stabbed the bastard 17 times, or as she put it until she got tired. Now Stella is calling saying some other woman's DNA was found on the knife. Deborah insists she was the only one involved, so now we get to drill her in interview until she coughs up her accomplice."

Mac watched their exchange as he hung up with Stella, there was something about their body language towards each other that worried him. "Augusta, you observe. Don, you and I will question." Gus knew by her uncle's use of her full name to not argue, though she had to wonder why he was so insistent upon separating her and Flack.

Gus looked into the interview room, where Mac and Flack were intensely grilling Deborah. She was more than a little taken aback and could understand Deborah's confusion turning into annoyance. How often did the murderer cleanly admit to the crime without so much as a glance at an attorney? Not to mention the woman seemed very matter of fact about it, she had warned Kevin Carter and followed through with her threat. Gus was willing to bet that while the woman may be experiencing a bit of shock, she wasn't lying or even that remorseful, at least not yet. Mac exited as the woman finally asked for a lawyer, looking perplexed.

"What is your take?" he asked, his mouth set in a straight line.

"I know I am not the best at the hard sciences, Mac, but I know my social sciences, and I don't think she is lying-" she held up her hand as he started to protest, "yes, I know, DNA, I just think something is off here and it isn't Deborah Carter."

Mac sighed, "I'm going to see what else the lab has come up with, you two okay to get her to booking?"

Gus nodded, turning back to the room as Mac exited, wondering about the exchange she was observing.

"If you had to do it again, Deborah, if you could go back to that moment, would you do it again? Would you stick the knife in his chest?" Flack asked, more slumped than sitting in front of their suspect.

Deborah didn't hesitate, "all 17 times. Regrets are a waste of time, you can't change the past."

Flack looked at her, his eyes empty, "no matter how okay you think you are, when you close your eyes at night, it is going to haunt you."

Deborah looked her disbelieving and Gus didn't blame her. She truly believed the woman wouldn't be haunted by her act. Flack, however, was more haunted than the LaLaurie Mansion. She waved for a uniform to come in to escort Deborah to booking, hoping to get Flack to talk, but Flack literally pushed Deborah past her without so much as a glance in her direction.

* * *

Gus considered trying to corner Flack once he got done with booking, but she wasn't in the mood for another workplace showdown, certain the rest of the guys had already started a pool. She decided to head up to the lab to see what was happening there, to see if any of the nerds could confirm her theory that Deborah Carter had acted alone. She found Hawkes who was looking annoyed and perplexed. "Sheldon, what is going on?" she asked as he stared at a screen with several open cases from a variety of states.

"I'm not sure," he said, lost in thought and then realizing it was her, "hey, Gus, have you talked to Danny lately?"

Gus shrugged, she was getting more and more hermit like. "No, can't say I have, I tried to, but he blew me off, I don't think he wants me to think he is weak, and I never would think he is, but...you know."

Hawkes nodded, "I hear you, but the thing is, I think he is being weak."

"Sheldon! He got shot in the back, he is in a wheelchair," Gus admonished.

"That is the thing, I don't think he should still be in it, I saw plenty of trauma cases, plenty of them worse than Danny's and many of them were already up and walking by now, it has been months."

"And as a doctor, you know that you can't truly put a definitive time line on anyone's healing process. Danny will get there, but don't you think he needs support more than a kick in the pants?" Gus asked, even though she felt she was talking more about Don than Danny.

Hawkes seemed to realize that, "I think he might need both, but I doubt that is what you can all the way up here for and since I don't see coffee..."

"I think Deborah Carter was the one to stab her husband," Gus said, crossing her arms over her chest in a challenge.

"Maybe so, but the other DNA we found in the apartment came up with hits on several cases in several jurisdictions, all pointing to the same unknown female. I am waiting on Albany now to finish confirming them all."

Hearing of red tape, Gus started to back away, "you have fun with that, Sheldon, I'm going to see if Sid has posted the autopsy yet."

Sid was still working on the autopsy when Gus made her way down to the basement, suppressing a shudder.

"Do what do I owe the honor of your ray of sunlight gracing my autopsy room, Augusta?" Sid said in his normal cheery fashion.

"Felt like it had been a while since I had been to a posting and wanted to see how Mr. Carter was doing," Gus said, tying her gown and slipping gloves.

"Always a pleasure, but I can't say Mr. Carter is doing well, he is, in fact, very dead," Sid teased with a smile, making a note in the chart.

"Oh, Sid," Gus replied with a smile and a shake of her head.

"I sent his stomach contents up to the lab, seems like it had a large dinner right before he was killed. I understand the wife confessed to his murder?" He looked up over his glasses at the young woman studying the body with a grave face.

Gus nodded, "yep, apparently he cheated on her and that was the consequence."

"I often feel like my wife would do the same thing, though she would probably poison me, she doesn't like to get her hands dirty, ironic considering what I do every day," Sid said with a grin.

Gus started to reply, before feeling her phone vibrate, "looks like I'm being summoned to the lab, nice to see you, Sid."

"Anytime, Augusta," Sid retorted with a wave, made gruesome by the bone saw in his hand.

Gus caught the elevator up, taking a deep breath when it stopped on the first floor and Flack got on. Luckily it was empty. "You get summoned by Mac too?" she asked, hoping to get some response from him.

"Yep, you too?" Flack said, his jaw working. Gus could only nod. Finally Flack gave her the smallest of concessions. "Thanks for covering for me with Daddino and everyone."

Gus gave a small shrug, "we're still partners, Don, I have your back. Just, call me first next time, okay?"

"Fine, but don't try to best down my door next time, either. Johnson has been bitching at me since you showed up."

"Hairy guy on the first floor, yeah, he seemed like a winner," Gus said with a small smile, wondering where she stood with Flack, desperate to maintain a connection, no matter how tenuous. "Say, um, you want to grab a drink or dinner or whatever meal it might be when this case is done?"

Flack gave a non-committal shrug, until he took in Gus' crestfallen look. "I guess, let's see what is going on first."

What was going on was that Stella wanted to take Flack to canvass the buildings on either side of the Carter's because of a fiber match to their carpets and Mac wanted her to work with Hawkes and Lindsay on building a profile of the now 21 cases the unknown female donor was connected to. Sinclair was already having kittens at this one woman crime spree and Mac wanted a behavioral profile in addition to the scientific one. Gus sighed as she saw the boxes already coming in by courier and realized it might be quite some time before she got around to that drink or meal with Flack.

* * *

**Chapter 84: Looked Like the Woman**

Gus disappeared into the stack of boxes and files, trying to find some connection between the cases. Hawkes and Lindsay were busy sorting through the evidence, running much of it again and working up statistical geographic profiles. She was getting beyond frustrated and starving when Flack called to let her know he had just finished questioning Kevin Carter's other wife with Mac.

"What do you mean other wife?" Gus said, fighting with her dollar and the vending machine, "stupid, piece of shit!"

"Having two wives, yeah, pretty much," Flack shot back, giving Gus another glimpse of hope that maybe he wasn't completely doomed.

"I was talking about the vending machine that won't take my stupid brand new dollar to give me a crappy sandwich so I can go back to the stack of boxes and conjure up some nonexistent connection in these cases. But I do agree that Kevin Carter is at the very least an idiot. Most men can't handle one wife let alone two."

"Why don't you take a break and we can grab a couple of dogs? I gotta wait on an elimination sample from wife number two and I have a feeling if I don't make myself scarce, Daddino is going to start grilling me."

Gus picked up on the desperation in his voice, causing her to immediately quit fighting with the machine. "While I should probably let him, considering you gave me a freaking heart attack the other night, I would much rather grab a hot link, I'll be right down."

They walked around the block, at first engrossed in their food, Gus getting as much mustard on herself as she consumed. "Maybe we should sit before I have to end up giving you the Heimlich," Flack suggested as she attempted to wipe the offending condiment away.

Sitting on a bench, Gus wondered what to say, hating the silence and tension between them, unaware that Flack was thinking the same thing. He wanted to reach out to her, to wipe the mustard from her cheek, fold her into him and have her tell him everything was going to be okay. Except he didn't, he kept his hands clasped between his legs, knowing that she would give him the peace he sought, but sure he did not deserve it.

"I still have mustard on my face, don't I?" Gus asked, catching Flack staring at her. He nodded, gesturing to her cheek, which she wiped at vigorously. "I didn't mean to make things rough with your neighbors, Don, I just...I was worried."

"Everyone really needs to stop worrying about me, I'm not the only person to ever shoot someone in the line of duty, ya know." Flack brushed her off.

"Look, I know everyone is on your back and you wish they would all just go the hell away, and eventually you are going to get your wish, Don, you are going to drive everyone out of your life. Except me, I'm not going anywhere, so get over it. I know you have to deal with things in your own time and in your own way, I just want you to be able to come back from the edge you are standing on."

"I'm not suicidal, if that's what you mean," Flack looked at her angrily.

Gus reached for his arm, not letting him brush her off. "That isn't what I am saying, I'm...look I know all about being broken, and as I said, we are partners and I will cover for you, but it is a lot easier for me to do that if I at least know you are alive. It isn't keeping tabs on you or checking up on you. Have I ever judged you?" She stopped talking, looking at him, waiting for an answer.

Flack knew she was stubborn enough to sit there all day. He also knew that she hadn't ever judged him, and she was the one person on this planet who did have his back, unconditionally. "No, you haven't, yet."

"Why the hell would I start now? You think I want to get partnered with some old should be retired lug or someone who thinks it okay to play grab ass with me? I am trying my damnedest to make sure we both stay in the field and alive. In case you forgot, I know how much it sucks to have your badge taken away from you for an extended period, I don't suggest you try it."

"Fine, I'll check in with you," Flack replied, resignedly.

Gus wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. "Just remember I have my ways of tracking you down, I am a damn good detective, you know." She raised her eyebrows at him.

Flack looked at her, brow furrowing. "You didn't have Adam put a tracker in my phone, did you, Gus?"

"Not yet, but I am still considering it. Just keep your head up, Don, or at least give me a heads up," she said, standing to answer her buzzing phone. "Looks like Hakwes has something for me, and Lindsay has something for you."

"Oh goody, more cases," Gus said upon returning to the lab.

"I thought you liked cold cases," Lindsay teased, before heading out with Flack to track down a delivery woman who was connected to at least three of the cases and appeared to be delivery cocaine in her packages.

"From our department, not from every halfwit police force up and down the Eastern seaboard," Gus grumbled, wandering over to where Hawkes was running a variety of statistical programs.

"Math, never was my strong suit, not even stats," Gus said as Hawkes tried to explain what he was doing.

He smiled at her, "and how is the behavioral profile coming?"

"Don't give me that math is smarter than you smile, Sheldon, I know it is. I can't seem to get a trace on this woman, except it appears she is a very prolific assassin or the most bizarre serial killer ever. Extrapolating what we do know about those two things, and yes I know that is based on math, I would guess she is between 25-35. I figure she holds some sort of flexible job given the geographic spread, she is probably well educated and given that she hasn't raised any suspicions, she is most likely well groomed, reserved and soft spoken. You aren't going to find her at a woo girl bar any time soon."

"Nice, add to that European descent, brown hair and eyes, average height and weight from her DNA profile and we have narrowed it down to only a few million people."

Gus sighed until Hawkes pointed her attention back to his screen, "but we do have her most probable place of residence." She gave him a look to show she wasn't impressed, "hopefully Lindsay and Flack will give us more to go on."

* * *

Gus was a little surprised when Lindsay paged her down to the interview room a bit later. She and Mac were staring through the window at Stella and Flack who were questioning Marcia Vasquez, the delivery woman. The woman was belligerent and shouting she wasn't giving them anything.

Stella immediately retorted with, "we got your DNA from your fingerprint card and that connects you to a dozen murders and puts you in the Carter's apartment."

"I don't know no Carters, only thing I know is you're a damn coward," Marcia spat towards Flack, who shook his head and stormed out. He gave not a backward glance to the trio gaping at him.

Mac narrowed his eyes at Lindsay. "What the hell happened out there?"

"Nobody got hurt," Lindsay pleaded, looking back and forth between Mac and Gus.

Mac sighed, "that's not the answer I was looking for."

Lindsay looked at Gus in a way that made the woman's stomach twist. While she didn't know what had happened, she had a feeling Lindsay was about to sell Flack up the river. She explained how Marcia had ran and pulled a knife on Flack. "He froze, Mac, he couldn't pull the trigger, she could have easily killed him. I had to tackle and cuff her, otherwise..."

Gus looked at Lindsay, wounded that her friend would betray Flack and started to move toward the door to question him. Mac stopped her, holding the door shut with his palm. "I keep giving you chances with Flack, Augusta, and I am starting to regret that. Stay here." Gus gave a small grunt, but moved away from the door.

"Really, Linds?" she snarled as soon as Mac was gone, "it is a bad thing to not try resolve things peacefully, we should just all start shooting first and asking questions later?"

Lindsay held up her hand, "don't Gus, don't say anything else, you'll just regret it later. You didn't see him, you didn't see his face, it was like I was looking through him. Flack should probably be dead right now!"

Gus stormed out to the pit in time to hear the tail end of Mac's conversation with Flack. "I wish that was true, if it wasn't for Lindsay saving your ass today, we might be having this conversation in an emergency room or not at all."

"Unless you want to make it official, I got nothing else to say," Flack retorted, causing Mac to walk away with a icy stare at Gus. She knew she would hear it from him later, but at least he was heading back towards the interview observation room at the moment.

Gus approached Flack but he waved her off, "not now, please, Gus." His pleading tone was enough to keep her it bay. She wanted so much to tell him how much she loved him and that is why she was so distressed about his reaction, but she knew he wouldn't hear it. "Fine, but, just call me later if you need to, please?" He nodded as she headed back to observation.

"Take a look at Marcia, what do you see?" Mac said when she came back in, Lindsay giving her a sideways glance.

"She is way more nervous about those photographs than anything else," Gus replied after watching the delivery woman for a long while as Stella kept pressing her.

"Exactly what I was thinking, behavioral cues indicate Marcia Vazquez is responsible for the deaths of the three men we know she delivered cocaine to, but it doesn't appear as though she was involved in any other of the cases."

"What about the DNA?" Lindsay asked, perplexed.

"Hawkes is running her delivery route information now, maybe he can shed some light on the situation."

Gus was about to head back to the pit to check on Flack, but Mac motioned her to follow.

Hawkes wasn't able to give them any clarity. "I have been over her route and logs several times, unless she has figured out how to be in two places at once, Marcia could not have been responsible for the other eighteen cases."

"Back to square one," Lindsay sighed.

Gus was about to say something when she noticed Mac doing his hundred yard stare again. "Mac is doing his House, MD thing again," she sighed. Lindsay and Sheldon turned to stare at her. "I'm serious, y'all, he has figured something out.

The trio followed after him, catching him tell Stella to stop Sinclair's press conference naming Marcia Vazquez as the one woman murder spree. "Do whatever you have to do, Stella, we were wrong."

"Glad I am not Stella," Lindsay quipped.

"For once, so am I," Gus agreed.


	20. Lived Long Enough

**Chapter 85: Lived Long Enough**

By the time the press conference occurred, stating the factory that produced the cotton swabs used by labs across the northeast had inadvertently contaminated crime scenes due to worker negligence, and finishing up the paperwork, Gus found herself in a rapidly emptying pit. Flack had disappeared at some point while she was engrossed in her work. She sighed, wondering what mental and emotional state he was in.

She debated on whether she should call him, when his number showed up on her phone screen. "Speak of the devil, sugar," she said, more relieved that she cared to admit that he had called, "what's up?"

"Ya said to call if I needed to, so..." Flack trailed off, his words slurred and heavy, clearly several drinks in.

"Where y'at, Don?" she sighed, already reaching for her bag.

She paid the taxi as it pulled up in front of the bar, relieved that for once it wasn't some dingy hole in the wall. It actually was more trendy then anything, and Gus wondered how Flack had chosen it, other than it was a bar and thus had liquor. She found him perched on a stool, draining a beer, several bottles and empty glasses in front of him. Gus was about to take the seat next to him when some barely dressed 22-year-old sneered at her. "That was, like, my seat, thank you," she dripped, rolling her eyes at Gus.

"Was being the operative word, sweetie, you weren't occupying it, ergo, free seat," Gus brushed past her.

"Uh," the woman made a snort more belonging to a teenager, "whatever, stupid bitch."

"Really?" Gus said, hooking back her suit jacket to display her badge, "want to try that again?"

The woman wavered slightly before rolling her eyes and turning back to the group of friends several feet from the bar.

"Just making friends where ever you go, huh, sunshine? What was that about southerners being the most hospitable?" Flack remarked with a smirk as she finally slid next to him.

Gus gave her head a small shake and motioned the bartender over, "it is a bar, not a Michelin restaurant. You don't leave anything to mark your spot, its open season."

Flack gave a derisive snort, "she tried to mark her spot."

"Charming," Gus said, curling her lip, "now was there a reason you called me?" His reply was a wicked grin, his eyes heated enough to let her know exactly what he was thinking. "Let me catch up first," she sighed, placing her order with the bartender.

A couple of drinks in, Gus decided to approach Flack about his freezing in the field. "So, was Lindsay telling the truth?" she asked, finishing her whiskey.

Flack shrugged, "don't know what you are talking about."

"Marcia Vazquez, brandishing a knife at you, you refusing to shoot after disappearing for three days. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"I really would like to know when it became procedure for us to shoot first and ask questions later," Flack glowered.

Gus couldn't help but laugh, cutting it off when she saw how he was looking at her. "Sorry, darling, it's just I said the same thing to Lindsay earlier today when Mac was chewing you a new one."

Flack gave a small dimpled grin back at her. He turned toward her, placing a hand on her thigh, the weight and heat of his palm sending a jolt of electricity through her. "You know what they say about great minds, you want to get out of here?"

Knowing with every bit of brain matter that she should say no, that she needed to stop this, that it wasn't doing either of them any good, Gus still found herself nodding in agreement, easily following him out the door of the bar and into a cab.

* * *

Afterward, naked and filled with regret on the floor of his living room, Gus nudged Flack's sleeping form on top of her. He came too, looking at her with glazed eyes. "You leavin'?" he asked sleepily.

Gus wiggled out from beneath him, slipping into her clothes while throwing his at him. "No, get dressed, we are talking."

"Gus, it is," he paused to squint at the clock, "4am, we are not talking, you are going to slip out just like always and try to avoid eye contact with me at work until we have some fight and then you feel bad and meet me in a bar and come back here and...rinse, repeat." He still slipped into his boxers and undershirt, walking towards the door like he was going to let her out.

Gus stared at him with raised eyebrows, her arms crossed over her chest. She shook her head and sat down heavily on the couch. "I'm not going anywhere, and yes, we are talking. You froze at work, you could have died, don't you even care?" She would have been more angry if she wasn't so exhausted.

"Maybe I've lived long enough," Flack growled more than he said.

"You can't mean that, Don!" Gus protested, getting up and closing the distance between them.

She tried to grasp on to him, but he pushed her away angrily."I don't know what I mean anymore! What I do know is that I am sick and tired of everybody asking me if I am fine and worrying about me. None of you can help me, so what the hell does it matter?" Flack said, his voice cracking.

"How do you know we can't help you if you don't let us I try? How can it not matter that we love you, that I love you? I have lost people, Don, I have done things that I have to live with, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to give up! Please, if you won't talk to me, talk to somebody."

"What some shrink that will take my damn badge, it is all I have left," Flack sneered, more fire in his eyes than Gus had ever seen.

"Then see someone outside the department, see a priest, talk to your father, something! But you can't keep doing this and I can't keep-" Gus protested.

"I told you, you didn't have to do any of it, screw me, cover for me, partner with me, I was fine on my own before you came to town," Flack clenching his fists, anger and pain welling up in him more than he could imagine.

Gus started to back up, not liking what she was seeing unfold before her, not even recognizing the man standing before her. "But you don't have to be on your own, Don," Gus pleaded softly, trying to make eye contact and get him to calm down. Flack couldn't see her, though, his stare that of the walking dead, the mortally wounded.

"Yes, I do!" he screamed, lashing out at the wall next to her, his fist easily piercing the drywall. He pulled it back, looking at it more in wonder than in agony, his guilt and grief a shield to any pain.

Gus tried to gather herself, despite the hole inches from her head. He was not Gage, he wasn't lashing out at her, this actually had very little to do with her. "You think being alone and miserable will fix anything? It won't bring Jess back, it won't bring Cade back, it won't fill that hole in you. I know, I tried, what do you think I have done the past year?" Gus reached for Flack again, not willing to let him go.

"Maybe I am stronger than you, Augusta, ever think of that?" Flack looked at her, his gaze blank again. "You should go, now."

"Don," she implored.

"I'm not asking, Gus, and find yourself another partner, I'm done." He held open the door, finality in his tone and posture, leaving Gus with no argument and feeling more alone than ever.

* * *

Gus didn't know what Flack had said to Daddino, all she knew was that when she came back to work, he put her back on cold cases for the entirety of the next rotation, saying Sinclair had ordered it because of the cotton swab debacle. Flack wouldn't even look at her, and she couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or hate. Maybe she had pushed too hard, trying to get him to talk, trying to get him to admit he was barely hanging on. She found it nearly impossible to concentrate, her emotions frayed nearly beyond repair. The lab was busy and with an actual flu going around, short-handed, leaving Gus to have to beg for scraps of their time on the cold cases she was trying to sort through.

Her heart broke a little bit more when she saw the look Parker shot at her when he and Flack got called out to a Midtown hotel, but there seemed to be nothing she could do about it. The only thing that seemed positive in her life currently was that Danny was back on his feet, albeit with a cane, which meant he couldn't run away and hide from her in he lab like everyone else did.

"Broussard, you are killing me," he said when she came up with a box.

"Simple DNA re-runs, Danny, I could do them, a monkey could do them, please?"

"Flack won't like you calling him a monkey," Danny tried to tease, his smile vanishing when it fell flat. "I take it you two are on the outs?" he scratched his neck, since the bar shooting he hadn't spoken to Don much, the other man not receptive to his calls outside of work. Then again, he hadn't really been too sociable strapped to the rolling tin can either.

"Pretty sure we have been that for a while, Messer," Gus sighed, "thanks for running these," she said, before walking quickly away.

Gus kept her head down in her cold cases, though she kept one ear out for how Flack was doing. Parker at least kept her somewhat in the loop, until Flack gave him the brush off as well. "I don't know what to tell you, Princess, he ain't gonna let anybody work with him and I give it three weeks before Tony yanks his badge."

"Thanks, Parker, for at least trying," Gus sighed.

"If I was you, I might suggest you use some of your detective skills on keeping an eye on your boy," Parker said with a warning look.

"I've tried that, he doesn't want anything to do with me either, he made that painfully clear," Gus protested.

Parker shook his head, "he doesn't have to know you are looking out for him, probably better if he doesn't. Think of yourself of his guardian angel."

"That might be more irony than I can take," Gus scoffed, though in the back of her mind, she was thinking Parker was probably on to something.

Thus began her rotation of working cold cases by day and following Flack by night. If he had any idea he was being tailed, he didn't show it. There were a couple of close calls, but by the time Flack had hit a couple of bars, he was too far gone to notice much of anything. Gus had to smooth more than a few ruffled feathers, pay off more than a few bartenders and use her powers of persuasion on more than a few of his adoring fans. She had time for little else, despite a few calls from the rest of the gang all of which she ducked to keep an eye on Flack. She was burning the candle at both ends, hoping and praying she would not get too badly burned...

* * *

**Chapter 86: Irish Boys**

Gus was just dropping some evidence off with Haylen, the overeager young woman serving as a willing pawn for Gus' cold cases, when Lindsay caught her. "You have been impossible to get a hold of, lady," Lindsay said, rushing up to her.

Gus stopped and turned to face her friend. It was true, she had ducked Lindsay's calls lately, the least reason being she was not able to see the happy couple so damn happy now that Danny was walking again and Lucy being the perfect, cute baby. "Yeah, I've been busy."

Lindsay cocked her head to the side, a teasing grin on her face, "with what, or should I ask who?"

Gus bit her lip, she had been tempted to reveal her romps with Flack and her more recent tailing of him to her friend so many times, but couldn't face the judgment, or worse pity. "Just work."

"There haven't been that many homicides, and you are allowed a night off now and again."

Nights off she spent trying to find Flack at whatever watering hole he had found that night before he did something stupid without him realizing she was following him. Except for one meal with Mac and Reed she had been a recluse.

"I was thinking since Danny is sort of back on his feet, we could get together with Stella. How long has it been since we had a good old-fashioned girls night, I mean it's been since before-" Lindsay cut off, freezing as she realized what she was about to say. She took in Gus' abrupt change in posture and how her eyes glazed over. Quickly, she dragged Gus into the women's locker room, shooing a couple of techs out with her newly minted mom glare. She motioned for Gus to sit down on the bench, which she did easily.

Gus slumped on the bench, realizing she had been a horrible friend to everyone else while trying to be a lifeline for Flack. She couldn't remember the last time she had been out for fun, in public.

"Sweetie, what is going on with you?" Lindsay asked, brushing Gus' hair back over her shoulders.

Gus shrugged, "It's just been tough, tougher than I thought it would be, maybe than it should be. What do I have to wallow about, it wasn't my perfect girlfriend that got shot." She dropped her head to her hands, feeling miserable. Sadly, this was a nice break from only feeling angry, guilty, worried or nothing.

Lindsay patted her on the back. "You have every right to be upset, you almost got killed. You did get shot, even if you didn't have the bullet wounds. Plus, this happened barely after you recovered from almost getting your throat slit by a madman and being in the hospital for how long? Not to mention, I know you have tried to make sure Flack doesn't do something stupid, despite him being a jerk to you."

"He's not that much of a jerk, he's grieving," Gus said, scuffing her shoes against the floor before giving Lindsay a sidelong glance.

Lindsay rolled her eyes, "I'm not arguing. Have you talked anyone?" Gus shook her head. "Your doctor? Mac? Stella? Sheldon?"

Gus shook her head after each one. "I can't have anything on my file, and y'all have dealt with the shooting as well, both in the diner and in the bar, I can't put that burden on anyone."

Lindsay contemplated things for a moment, "what about Jimmy Doyle?"

"What do you mean what about Jimmy Doyle?"

Lindsay sighed, "I mean it was his vest that saved you right?"

Gus head shot up, looked at her like a deer in headlights. She hadn't told anyone other than Adam whose vest it was and she doubted he told anyone.

"Danny told me, he heard you two in the hospital. He isn't part of the team, so maybe has enough distance and obviously he cares about you enough that he gave you his vest."

Gus shook her head, "I can't, everything is just too complicated now, with Flack and everything and I'm a mess and he probably thinks I'm...I don't know, Linds."

"I do, you need someone to talk to, someone besides us. And I think you probably owe the man dinner, at least, for saving your hide."

This at least brought a small smile from Gus. "Fine, I'll call Doyle." Something else sparked in her, giving her eyes a bit of their mischievous light that Lindsay had missed. "Did you know his first name was Jameson?

Lindsay gave a small laugh, "like the Irish whiskey? What is with you and Irish boys, Gussie? Do I even want to know how you found that out? Actually, yes, yes I do, but at a girls night. So get out of here and go call Jameson." She all but dragged Gus to the elevator, pressing the down button and waiting for her friend to get on before she walked away.

* * *

Before she could over think it, Gus picked up the phone and dialed. She almost hung up three times before he answered.

"Doyle."

Gus cleared her throat, "um, hi, Jimmy, did I get you at a bad time, you're probably busy, I can call you back." Gus ignored Parker who looked like he was choking not to laugh at her, the phone halfway back to the receiver when she heard, "Broussard, is that you?"

She pulled it back, "yeah. Look, I know I haven't talked to you in a few weeks since...you know...but I was about to get off and wanted to see if you wanted to grab dinner at that new Spanish place around the corner, I heard they are giving cops a decent discount."

"That artisanal paella place? Did think you were so trendy, Broussard."

Gus immediately flushed, "you're right, it's dumb, sorry, I'll, ah, catch you later." Gus inwardly groaned. She had apparently turned into Adam since he found his mojo.

"No, it's not. I wasn't doing anything but trying to catch up on paperwork, but I can do that whenever. I would greatly enjoy checking out the sustainable, organic, bullshit restaurant with you. I'll see you out front in, say, ten minutes?"

Parker had clearly heard the entire conversation, "good for you, Slugger. You want me to tail Donnie boy tonight?"

Gus sighed, shaking her head, "nah, maybe we need to give him some space, he's headed home after work the past couple of nights anyway."

"If you say so. Have a good time, Broussard," Parker said waving her off.

Gus waited out in front of the precinct, away from the door so she could lean against the brick wall and steel her nerves. Doyle came out right on time, looking around briefly before catching sight of her with a wide smile as he walked up and leaned on the wall next to her. "Hey," Gus said, feeling suddenly very shy.

Doyle nudged her slightly, "back at you, kid, how have you been?"

Gus raised her eyebrows, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket, "I've been what I've been."

"That's very philosophical." He waited a beat, "I'm glad you called. I've thought about calling you, a lot, but I didn't want to push."

"Yeah, well, I figured I owed you dinner at least, considering you saved my life and all," she said with a small shrug.

"Technically, it was the vest from my brother that saved your life and all, so should I call him up and have him come out to dinner too?" Doyle gave her a grin, turning serious when she didn't return it. He studied her carefully. She seemed drawn, having obviously lost weight since the shooting, which didn't suit her. She wasn't one of those skinny girls that looks better like a skeleton, she was meant to have curves and color in her round cheeks, not this sallow, haunted look she had now. He leaned over and tapped her gently on her temple. "What's happening in there, Gus?"

"Nothing," she said, pursing her lips. Doyle looked at her, disbelief clear on his face. "No really, Jimmy, a lot of the time it is nothing, like I am blank, a zombie. Which feels a lot better than being pissed off at the universe or crushed around a weight of guilt. Ridiculous that not feeling feels better, and I used to be a psychologist, ugh." She gave a small cry of frustration, withdrawing her hands from her pockets and hugging herself.

"It isn't ridiculous, it does suck though, when you can't figure out if being emotionally dead is any better than being actually dead." Gus looked at him curiously. "I felt the same way when I came back from Iraq." He waved off Gus' stumbling utterances of shock. "I don't usually talk about it, I was there in '04-'05, got called up from the reserves, otherwise I probably would have dragged your ass off a roof in New Orleans." He gave her another grin and nudged at her with his elbow. "How about we blow off the ridiculous restaurant and grab some take out and talk. Or not, if you really want dinner that comes with a dossier on the origins of our food, we can still go."

This finally elicited the smile, albeit small, he was going for from Gus. "I don't really ever want to know that much about where my food came on unless I shot it myself. There's a little hole in the wall around the corner from me that is neither organic nor sustainable but has the best udon in town, if you don't mind heading uptown."

"I'm game," Doyle replied, leading the way to his car.

* * *

"You were not kidding," Doyle said as they sat at Gus table deep in steaming noodle bowls.

"I do not jest about food, sugar, ever," Gus said, fighting with her chopsticks for a moment before just stabbing at the doughy noodle.

Doyle smirked at her ineptness with chopsticks trying to not laugh.

"What?" she asked, giving up and slurping at the soup.

"I am just a little amazed they gave you an actual gun."

"I can handle firearms thank you very much, it is just the rest of my life that is a mess. But enough about me, man of many layers, what was this about Iraq, please tell me I didn't zone out on your telling me you were in the military."

"As I said, I don't talk about it much. I put myself through school with the Army reserves, my number got called up, I went, did my tour, saw a hell of a lot I didn't want to, worse than I had ever seen as a cop and got out the first chance I could. My brother is the military man in the family, I'm fine with being the lowly cop."

"Being a lieutenant in charge of Special Vics for all of lower Manhattan is considered lowly in your family? Jesus, remind me to not ever go home with you for Thanksgiving," Gus joked, before realizing how what she said could be interpreted and blushing as the awkwardness of them not talking about that night flooded over it.

Doyle didn't let on if he noticed, remarking, "we try to only judge guests on Christmas and Easter."

"As the good Lord intended," Gus said, suddenly intrigued with her soup.

"When is the last time you had real food, Broussard?" Doyle asked, trying to get a read on how she truly was coping.

"Does crap from the vending machine count?" Gus said, draining her broth and wiping her mouth. She gestured for his empty bowl, walking both to the kitchen, setting them in the sink before moving to grab them both a couple of beers. She emerged from the kitchen, Doyle standing by the table giving her a look as he accepted his beer. Gus tightened her jaw but didn't say anything as she strode over to the sofa, flopping down with a sigh.

Doyle opened his beer, taking a drink before pointing his bottle at her and saying. "let me also guess: you aren't sleeping because when you do you have nightmares, you stopped working out because you are too tired from the not eating and not sleeping but you still manage to have the energy to stay at work, even if you are sitting at an empty desk after everyone else has gone home because it is better than sitting in the silence of your place and having to actually, I don't know, feel something."

Gus looked around sheepishly, "Jimmy, have you been spying on me?"

"As I said, I've been there. Except I also had a crazy wife to deal with, but that's beside the point."

"Did she cope with you coming back from Iraq by drinking herself half to death and getting in fights in biker bars after trying to pick up other people's STD ridden girlfriends?" Gus spit out without thinking.

Doyle scratched his head, "so Flack is doing that well, huh?"

"Yeah, guess it answers my question on how much he was in love with Jess, huh?"

Doyle watched her for a long minute. "It isn't your job to save him, you know, maybe you should focus on healing yourself first."

"I'm not sure I know where to start doing that, or even if I deserve to."

Doyle set his beer down very carefully on the coffee table, torn between trying to be patient and wanting to shake her. "I don't want to hear that shit, Gus, of course you deserve to heal. You didn't put that bullet in Angell, you gave as good as you got." He leaned forward, his hands clasped as his elbows rested on his knees.

"I know I'm not responsible for her death, Jimmy, I just can't figure out why it was her and not me. Your vest not withstanding. More," she gestured, "cosmically."

"None of us know when our ticket is going to get punched, kid, but I can't get why you are stuck on thinking it should have been you we were putting on our dress blues for."

Gus shrugged, working her fingernail underneath the label on the neck of the bottle, "I dunno, just seems like I don't have half of what Jess had going for her. She probably could have been police commissioner one day, and you said earlier, it is amazing I haven't shot myself in the foot yet."

Doyle shook his head in protest, "don't sell yourself short. You have everything going for you and a lot of people who care about you."

"You sound like Mac," Gus said, still messing with the label.

Doyle reached out, covering her hand with his own, bringing it toward them, "he's a smart guy, you might want to start listening to him." Gus thought about pulling her hand away, but there was something reassuring about the weight of having someone else hold it, someone who seemed to understand at least slightly what was happening to her and was reaching out. She nodded slightly, not looking convinced. "I'm not telling you you're just going to wake up one morning and be fine," Doyle went on, "but time does help. Forgiving yourself for whatever you're punishing yourself for goes a long way as well."

Gus removed her hand from his, turning to face him, "It isn't about punishment, Jimmy, it's about...aw hell, I don't know what it is about, I just feel like thing would probably be easier on everyone if it had been me instead of her."

Doyle looked at her gravely, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear, a seemingly simple gesture that suddenly held a lot more weight, especially as his hand rested on her shoulder. "It wouldn't have been for me, Gus."

Gus realized she needed to take that opening, "that night, before the shooting..." she started before she lost the nerve.

"Yeah?" Doyle said, not adding anything like she had hoped, but a small smile surfacing on his serious face.

"Do you regret it?" she asked, steeling herself for his affirmative answer.

"Was it a little rash, completely unplanned and fueled mainly by consuming a ridiculous amount of whiskey? Yes. Would I have liked it to have happened a bit more traditionally? Yes. Do I regret it or wish it hadn't happened, no. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. He took his hand from his shoulder, tracing gently down her arm. "In fact, cosmically speaking as you said, maybe you were supposed to spend the night."

Gus didn't respond, feeling like she was trying to climb up from the bottom of a deep pit. She was struggling with her feelings for Flack, which were constantly challenged by the ghost of Angell, and she realized Cade. She was also struggling with the fact that there was a very sweet guy in front of her, that she had willingly slept with, who had saved her life and actually seemed interested in her emotional well-being and not just using her for his own selfish healing or shutting her out.

"Do you regret it?" Doyle asked finally, his hand resting on the inside of her knee that was propped up as she sat criss-cross on the sofa.

Gus shook her head, "no, I don't think so. I mean I agree with everything you said, and yeah if I hadn't been there I wouldn't have had the vest and...but what if things get so bad in homicide that I want to transfer to Special Vics, is that offer even still there now?"

Doyle gave a small laugh, "your career is what you are worried about? Sure you ain't a guy? You want to transfer to Special Vics, I'll sign the paperwork in a heartbeat. You are a great cop whether or not we slept together. We'd be professionals, acknowledge it and move on. Mind you, it couldn't ever happen again if you were working for me, that is a whole can of worms I am not going to open."

Gus nodded in agreement, when something he had said before struck her. "What do you mean more traditionally speaking or in a heartbeat?"

Doyle squeezed lightly with a smile, "you don't miss a beat or let anything go, do you?" Gus just kept looking at him, waiting for him to answer. He gave a small sigh. "I married my college sweetheart, did the proposal for graduation thing, we had dated for three and a half years, steady. Always did things by the book, flowers, candy, courting..."

Gus tried to not laugh at his earnestness, "being a gentleman, I recall," she said clearing her throat.

The smile returned to his face, "yeah, a gentleman, wasn't such a bad thing, I thought, until she left me for a jerk. So, I am not good at what you crazy kids are into these days, all this hooking up and friends with benefits."

"Jimmy, I am not that much younger than you!" Gus threw her hands up in exasperation.

"Eight years, may as well be an eternity. Face it, I'm old."

"Should I get you some prune juice and isn't it past your bedtime?" Gus teased.

"Fine, not old. At least out of touch. I've heard some of my guys talking about their conquests." He looked grim at the knowledge.

"There is nothing wrong with being a traditionalist, Jimmy, I swear. Most women want that or should at least, when they are done whoring it up at nightclubs. Assuming they don't get sold into sex slavery, that is." Gallows humor gave them both a bit of brevity.

Doyle turned back facing away from Gus drinking his beer. Gus bit her lip, debating before pushing again. "That in a heartbeat bit?" she pressed on.

He took the time to drain his beer before answering, looking forward instead of at her. "Ball is in your court, Broussard, but if you call, I'm probably going to answer." Gus detected the tiniest bit of color rising in his cheeks, something she found slightly endearing. She went back to peeling off the label from her bottle, in order for him to stop feeling scrutinized. "Wouldn't want you whoring it up in nightclubs," he said with a wicked grin, rising and taking both their bottles to the kitchen to drop them in the recycling bin.

Gus wasn't sure how to react, it was nice to have some semblance of power back in her life, but she knew she wasn't ready for anything serious, unless it was back with Flack. Yet there was something about the comfort and safety that Jimmy provided, something she wasn't willing to let slip through her fingers.

She must have furrowed her brow because when Doyle came back he said, "you'll give yourself wrinkles, you keep doing that." He placed another beer in front of her, "thought we could use another round, unless you want me to go." He looked down at her questioningly.

Gus glanced up, giving him the smallest of smiles, "no, stay, how about we see if there is anything on the five hundred channels I pay for but never watch?"

"Sounds good to me, I've relied on rabbit ears for eight months," he replied, looking as relaxed as if they had chatted about how the Giants would do this season.

Gus decided to roll with it, feeling like if things weren't resolved between them, at least they weren't strained. There was a level of comfort and familiarity with Jimmy. Gus wasn't sure if it was because of all the time they spent together on the Shirazi case or if it was because he understood more of what she was going through than even she did. Either way, she gave herself permission to just sink into it, at least for the moment. Which is how she ended up falling asleep, tucked against Jimmy's side, his arm wrapped around her like a safety net, keeping the nightmares at bay.

When her phone started buzzing around 3am, Doyle woke with a start, looking down at Gus peacefully asleep with her head on his lap. He saw Don Flack's name appear on the screen, recalling her comment from earlier about Flack's lack of coping skills. He reached toward the phone, praying her didn't wake her. He pressed the power down button sending Flack's call to voice mail before carefully lifting Gus up and carrying her to her bedroom. Doyle was about to set her down on her bed and slip out of the apartment without her even stirring.

* * *

**Chapter 87: Everyone is Waiting**

Gus woke only when the beam of sunlight fell on her face from the window, the blinds open from the day before. The heat and light on her face stirred her awake with a gentleness she hadn't felt in months. She sat up, slightly confused about why she was on top of her covers and still in her clothes. The last thing she remembered was lounging on the couch watching a bad action flick with... "Doyle," she murmured, realizing he must have carried her to her bedroom. Apparently he had been serious about that gentleman thing. The crushing weight of reality struck her only when she looked at the clock and saw how late in the day it was and she realized her phone was not in its bedside charger. Her phone, where was her phone? She jumped up and ran to the living room, finding it powered off on the coffee table.

"Doyle," she said again, this time a little more annoyed. Gus was already preparing herself for the earful she would get from Daddino for practically being a no-show, even if she was still on cold cases. She powered it on, drumming on the table as she impatiently waited. The notifications pinged from the moment it connected. Missed calls, voice mails, texts, emails...Gus didn't even know where to start. Voice mails, she decided, figuring they were probably the most pressing. She listened in, confused about Daddino was calling to tell her to not worry about it, he would catch her the next shift, though they would need to discuss about her partnership soon.

"That will be fun," she sighed as she listened to the next voice mail, this one from Lindsay inquiring about how she was doing with more than a hint of curiosity in the other woman's voice. The last message was from Parker telling her she picked a crap night off from following Flack, that the other detective had come in looking like death warmed over and was acting like a rabid animal but that he hoped she had enjoyed herself but she needed to get her ass back from Special Vics. The messages made a lot more sense when she saw the text from Doyle: _Figured you could use the sleep, told Tony I was stealing you for a cold case lead today. Rest up, kid, enjoy your day off-Jimmy_

She scrolled through the missed call log, wincing as she discovered Flack had called five times between the night before and then, though he hadn't bothered to leave a message or text. Gus felt waves of guilt wash over her for not checking in on him, what if he had needed her? She knew she needed to unchain herself from him, to let Flack have space, especially considering how their last conversation had unfolded. Gus did her best to follow Doyle's instructions, though it felt strange to not be at work and essentially be playing hooky. She indulged in a long bubble bath, actually picked up some groceries for her barren kitchen and opened one of her well-loved books. She forced herself to go to bed early, though she kept her phone close at hand in case Flack called her again. Gus woke before her alarm early the next morning, feeling slightly better than she had in months. This all came crashing down as she entered the pit the next morning.

"Nice of you to find your way back to homicide, you know, your actual department," Flack spat as she walked to her desk and slung her blazer over her chair.

"What do you care? I was working on a cold case, like I was ordered to this rotation, thanks to you," Gus shot right back, even though she had worried about Flack since seeing those missed calls and that he hadn't called the night before.

"I don't care, Hawkes might though," Flack snapped. Gus waited for him to elaborate, tapping her foot against the floor and trying to ignore everyone staring at them. "I just got out of interviewing him."

"Interviewing Sheldon? For what?" Gus' demeanor immediately softened, concern overtaking her face.

Flack felt some of his anger subside at her transformation. He wasn't angry at her, more perplexed at where she had disappeared to, why she hadn't followed him the last couple of nights to make sure he got home safe. He knew she had been at it for weeks, since their last argument, when he had put his fist through the wall next to her, scaring himself as much as he scared her. Flack was trying to lie to himself, about so much these days, but he couldn't make himself believe that he wasn't ashamed for pushing Gus away, especially since it seemed like he might have succeeded in doing so permanently. He lowered his voice, pointing with his chin toward the interview rooms, "let's talk in there."

Gus followed, refusing to sit even as Flack pulled out a chair for her. "What is going on with Sheldon?" she asked, her eyes wide with distress.

"He got picked up early this morning while Major Case was serving a warrant on a buddy of his for embezzlement, he was sleeping on his couch," Flack said, sitting in the chair across the table from her, working his jaw.

Gus resignedly sat as well, "maybe he was just crashing out after a long day..." she trailed off.

"What he call you to work out his story?" Flack asked, his eyes flashing.

Gus shook his head, "no, of course not. I feel like I am missing something here, Don!"

Flack gave a small snort, "you could say that."

"How about you fill me in."

"First off, we had a vic yesterday who Sheldon had treated with his medical volunteer thingy, but didn't think it was a big deal. Turns out the vic was poisoned with some long chemical name that someone spiked his OJ with. Then I get dragged across town with Stella to some splooshing party where people are playing with their food in nasty ways, and I can't unsee it. Last night we find the body of the vics girlfriend taking a dirt nap in her bathtub, same poison and then this morning, I get a call on my way in that Major Crimes picked up Sheldon. So it has been a long couple of days and I hope you enjoyed gallivanting with Special Vics. Again. You put in your transfer papers yet?" Flack snipped.

"Should I? Heard you weren't playing nice with anyone else here," Gus retorted, rising from her seat, wanting to head over to the lab to see what was going on with Sheldon.

"As I said the other night, I am fine on my own!" Flack leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gus leaned over the table, placing her palms at it and lowering her head toward him. Her tone and expression grave, "I didn't believe you then and I don't believe you now. I'm going to check in with Daddino and then I am heading up to the lab."

* * *

"Damned if I do and damned if I don't, Broussard," Daddino said as Gus entered his office.

"Sir?" Gus squeaked out.

"Link you up with Flack, you two are like wet cats fighting in a bag, leave him on his own and everyone else is complaining about his less than winning personality and I gotta worry he is going to do something stupid."

Gus chewed on her lip, worried. "Where does that leave me, professionally, sir?"

Daddino drummed his fingers on his desk, "I am trying to figure that one out, Broussard, but back to the freezer for you for now." Gus started to leave but Daddino spoke again. "You get anywhere with Doyle?"

Gus gave an honest shrug, replying with a smirk, "maybe, who knows?" she replied, heading out with a shake of her head.

She headed toward the lab only to run into Doyle himself. "You look slightly less like a zombie," he remarked.

"Thanks, I think," Gus said with a small smile, "thanks for the opportunity at the least, you didn't have to."

Doyle shrugged, "seemed like you could use a break. Know it was just a day..." he trailed off, looking suddenly bashful.

"Jimmy?" Gus inquired with raised eyebrows.

"You aren't ticked off about me turning off your phone, are you?" he asked rubbing at his neck.

Gus heaved a sigh, "Lord knows I should do it more often myself. Apparently I missed some stuff going down, but it is probably for the best. Maybe."

Doyle gave a short bark of a laugh, "well as long as you are sure. You want to catch a cup of coffee?" He asked so seamlessly that Gus almost agreed.

"Sure," she started before shaking her head, "nah, I need to get up to the lab, see what is going on with Hawkes."

"You don't have to save everyone, Broussard."

"I am not saving anyone, Doyle, I am checking in on a friend. Something I have been rather remiss in while being a zombie," she replied with a teasing tone.

"I'll let you get to it. Let me know if you still want to check out that 'resto' around the corner," he said with a grin, making mocking air quotes.

"I am never suggesting another restaurant. See you around, Jimmy, and thanks again," Gus said, with a wave over her shoulder as she walked quickly away. "You do not need any more complications or people in your life, Augusta," she scolded herself as she crossed the bridge to the lab.

* * *

"Oh, hey, Gus," Stella said greeting her as she entered the lab. "We are a little stacked up on this Stafford mess, so it will be a while before we can run any cold evidence."

Gus inwardly groaned, apparently she had been sponging off the lab a little too much as of late. "I wasn't coming up here for evidence, Stel, I was actually wanting to check on Sheldon. You don't show up to homicide for one day..." Gus gave a shrug.

"He, Mac and Don just left, I got a print for a suspect and they are running him down now," Stella replied, as she moved closer and lowered her voice. "You don't know what is going on with him, do you?"

"Which one?" Gus retorted with a smirk.

"Good point," Stella smiled back. "In this instance, I was talking about Sheldon. He seem off to you lately?"

Gus wrinkled her nose, "I am not the best person to ask, Stella. I have been pretty much a crap friend lately. To all of you. I am sorry for that, by the way."

Stella looked at the other woman seriously, placing her hand on Gus' shoulder. "Look now, don't do that, don't beat yourself up. We all know you've tried to keep Don in line and that cannot be the easiest job not to mention you are still dealing with your own stuff. Mac is worried about you, more than he is letting on. You are his family, Gus, we all are, but you really are. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Gus was sure Stella was trying to convey concern, but her talk really just made Gus more guilty. She should be handling everything better and the last thing she wanted was to make Mac worry. She had done that far too much since Claire met him. She only realized Stella was still talking to her when the other woman dropped her hand from her shoulder. "You still there, Gus?"

"What, sorry, Stel, I'm just...spacey. I'll check back later, let me know if you find anything more about what is happening with Sheldon, okay?"

"Will do, and I meant what I said, take care of yourself."

Gus nodded, muttering to herself as she walked away, "why does everyone keep telling me that?"

Gus' guilt magnified even further when Flack dropped by her desk later. "Case closed and Sheldon mystery solved," he said, leaning against her desk.

Gus looked up from the file she was lost in, "what is it?"

"Apparently Sheldon sunk all his money with a less than prudent financial advisor and, poof, it's all gone. He sold his condo, but wasn't able to sign another lease yet. He was couch surfing with that douche bag friend. Get this, your Uncle is willingly sharing his space with him."

Gus made a face, "it must be bad, Mac barely tolerated me there after..." she trailed off.

Flack shrugged, "maybe he has changed." He stared at her for a long beat, "maybe we all have changed."

"Oh good, you two are talking to each other without screaming," Daddino said, coming up behind them.

Both of their heads whipped his way, eyebrows raised in mirror images of each other. Daddino hid a smile. "If you two can manage to not rip each others heads off, I am putting Broussard back in the field next rotation. Don't even think about giving me any of that I work better alone crap, Junior, I got chewed out by Brass for letting you go all cowboy this past rotation. So it's her or Lafferty and I suggest you choose wisely on who you want to spend the next rotation with."

Gus glowered, not sure what to make of the order, though she knew better than to argue. Not to mention she hadn't been able to make much headway on cold cases the past few weeks. She was itching to be back out in the field, where she could focus. Flipping through old files, gave her too much time for her mind to wander, worry and guilt to creep in, the loop of the shooting to play over and over in her mind, bringing with it all the other memories she had worked so hard to keep locked away.

Flack stood there, working his jaw, not liking being told what to do, even if by his superior officer. It wasn't that he wanted to work alone, he just couldn't handle being around other people. The constant checking up on him or awkward silences. Gus was his best option given the choices, but there was so much tension between them and he knew their relationship was currently a ticking time bomb and everyone was waiting for it to explode. "Fine, Broussard it is," he said finally, as Daddino waited impatiently for his answer.

"Good. But I am keeping my eye on both of you, act like god damn grown ups, would you?" he said, storming back to his office.

"I guess you just can't get rid of me, huh?" Gus said sheepishly.

Flack furrowed his brow, "at least not until Doyle steals you permanently."

There was something in his tone that caught her attention. Was he jealous? She debated pressing him on it, but her guilt over not having any clue over what had happened with Sheldon stopped her. "I'm going to see how Sheldon is doing, see you tomorrow," she said, giving him a small salute.

"Yeah, tomorrow," Flack replied, wondering if she was going to pick back up her sleuthing of his nighttime activities now that they we're partnered again. He watched her walk away, shaking his head, feeling distinct unease.


	21. Always Leaving

**Chapter 88: Are You With Me**

Fortunately for their partnership but less fortunate for the citizens of New York, the start of the next rotation was filled with active cases for the two homicide detectives. While neither of them were getting much sleep, Gus didn't have to follow Flack from bar to bar at the end of shift, as both were too exhausted to do anything but crash out. They also didn't have much time to talk, not that either of them was willing to. Strained silence filled the car on the way to and from calls, hunting down suspects, etc. The elephant sat firmly between them, though it was often drowned out by loud classic rock blaring through the speakers.

Flack almost opened his mouth to apologize to her a thousand times, but he couldn't make himself form the words. He couldn't handle her forgiveness, that had been his issue all along. Gus was willing to forgive him getting with Jess, still loving a dead woman, killing Cade, being an asshole to her continually, nearly punching her in a fit of rage, drinking himself halfway to death...Gus was somehow able to look past all of that and love him, more than he deserved. Yet he still wasn't able to forgive her for leaving him, for fracturing him last year. He couldn't help but wonder if he wouldn't be so shattered now if she hadn't started those cracks when she ran away. Either way, it didn't matter, he didn't deserve to have her back, he had too much to atone for. Plus, judging from a few things he overheard in the locker room, Jimmy Doyle was looking to take his place in her life.

Gus kept wanting Flack to open up, to say anything. She thought about being the first to bring it up, but she worried about setting off his anger again. Yes, he punched a hole in a wall and kicked her out because she tried to help him, wanted desperately to save him but that didn't stop her from loving him. She knew she didn't deserve for him to love her back, she had ruined that chance by rejecting him and running away. He would never forgive her for that, she just wanted him to forgive himself. She desperately wished she could absorb his pain, it was an albatross she was willing to carry forever if only he could climb up out of that desperate pit and become Don Flack again.

"You gonna sit in the car all day? I mean it's cool, but could you at least clean it out?" Flack asked, standing by his open door, staring down at Gus who was staring out the window.

She jumped, unaware they had pulled up to the precinct. "Sorry, guess I need more coffee or something."

Flack just nodded, wanting to suggest that what she needed was to eat and sleep, both of which looked like things she had skipped on a regular basis, but once again, he didn't know how to bridge the divide. Instead he closed his door and walked into the precinct.

Gus sat for a moment, feeling like the world was spinning out of her control, and it many ways it was. Everyone else was moving along, leaving her behind. She was partly responsible, since the shooting she had separated herself from the team, and before that she had been medically separated. Gus knew it was unreasonable to have people continue to outreach her when she was spurning them at every turn. She was so tired, not just physically but emotionally drained. She knew she couldn't stay in this state for much longer, but she also knew Flack couldn't either. Something was going to have to give, and soon.

She had just closed her car door when she saw Flack walking back out towards her. She cocked her head to the side, questioningly. "Get back in the car, they want us to check out an accident scene on the GW bridge."

"An accident scene, as in a 1099 traffic accident?" Gus wrinkled her brow, but still got back in the car.

The scene on the bridge was gruesome, car versus tractor-trailer where neither vehicle seemed the winner. "Are we here because they are worried about a homicide happening in the traffic backup?" Gus asked, stepping over hunks of broken concrete barrier.

"I don't know, I'll go see," Flack wandered off to talk to the uniforms on the scene, while Gus stood back, not sure where was safe to step. She grimaced as the first responders cut the driver of the car out. He obviously had not survived the crash. Flack came back, extending his hand to help her step over the debris.

"Thanks," she said, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach with something as simple as touching him.

"I feel like I am getting my Mac on this morning with this one," Flack said as he led her over to a barrel.

"Excuse me?" she asked, wondering what he was talking about.

Flack motioned to a barrel removed from the truck. "Mac, Taylor, related to you by marriage? Think he might be interested in what is in here."

Gus peered over the edge of the barrel, shuddering at the twisted form of the dead young woman inside. "Yeah, interested is a word, I'll call him now," she said, quickly moving away from the barrel. After getting in touch with Mac, she walked the scene, moving carefully among the wreckage. She peered in to what was left of the car, taking in the empty bottles on the floor. She wondered what vehicle had caused the accident, while moving to question the uniforms and see if they had identified the driver of the car or had any idea where the driver of the big rig had disappeared to. While she was gathering information, Stella and Mac arrived, Flack filling them in. She gave him a nod, moving on to where Danny and Lindsay were starting to process the cab of the rig.

"Hey, Gus, how's it going?" Danny said giving her a smile.

Gus returned the smile, "nice to see you out in the field, Messer."

"Nice to see you at all," Lindsay quipped, "you still owe me that girl's night and to tell me all about you and-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, bad friend, what do you have in here?" Gus cut in, not wanting her to say Doyle's name in front of Danny just in case it got back to Flack. She really didn't want any more complication in her life, romantic or otherwise.

"I got a wife I realize I never took on a honeymoon, and blood on a hula girl on the dash," Danny said, looking between Lindsay and Gus.

"Sounds like you two will be here awhile, I'll go see what else we got happening," Gus said climbing down from the side of the rig. She had just started to walk away when Danny popped back out, "Mac, you wanna come see this!"

Gus waited for Mac to come over, peering over his shoulder as Lindsay pointed out the essential holding cell in the sleeper compartment of the rig. Gus tried to suppress a shiver. "I think he was transporting human cargo, Mac," Lindsay remarked, shining her flashlight at scratch marks on the walls.

"Nothing seems to indicate that the victim didn't survive the crash," Lindsay pointed out.

"I call that lucky," Danny replied.

Mac gave a slight shake of his head, taking in Gus' pale face, "not if she is still with the driver." He paused, studying Gus who was staring at the cell like sleeper compartment, lost in thought. "I'm going to see what Sid gets from the post. You two keep processing, Gus, go get some coffee."

"What, coffee, yeah, sure," Gus said, wandering off, shaking slightly.

Gus leaned against the car, blowing on her steaming coffee. She wasn't sure why she had reacted so much to the truck, all she knew was it brought her right back to that back tiled room with Shirazi, and she had been lucky.

"You okay?" Flack asked coming up to the car and taking in Gus' expression.

"I'm fine, just needed some coffee. Where are we at?"

Flack didn't believe her, but unlocked the car, climbing in, "we need to head out-of-town because we have an eyewitness to the crash. Get in, buckle up and try to not spill that coffee."

Gus pulled up the picture of the identified driver of the rig on her phone, Casey Steele, turning it to face the man in the hospital bed, "Mr. Winston do you recognize this man?" she asked, looking at Flack, wondering if the man recovering from a gunshot wound would remember anything.

"Yes, yes I do, that is him," he replied, his voice shaking.

Flack pointed to the picture of Steele, "Mr Winston, you sure that's the guy who carjacked you?"

Winston nodded, "I should have just minded my own business and kept on driving. I saw the accident as it happened, I stopped, to see what I could do and this guy, the one in the picture, he comes out of the truck. He pointed a gun at me and he was dragging this woman behind him, she looked so scared. He shoved her in the backseat of my car, she was as scared as I was. All this time he is waving this gun around, he points it at me and tells me to drive. I do, until we are down the road in the middle of nowhere and he yells at me to pull over. He keeps pointing that gun at me, telling me to get out of the car and to give him my cell and wallet. I begged him to not hurt me, told him I wouldn't tell anyone about it, but he shot me anyway. If it wasn't for someone driving by seconds later, I would be dead. He's an animal, God help the woman that is with him." As soon as Winston got his story out, his eyelids became heavy, the retelling of his story obviously more than the injured man could take.

"Thank you for your time, sir, and sorry this happened to you," Gus said, her voice shaking. She quickly exited, leaving Flack standing behind.

Flack looked at her retreat and back at Winston, "the NYPD will do everything they can to find this man, you have my word."

"I hope you find that girl before he kills her," Winston replied, before closing his eyes.

* * *

Gus stood in the hallway, leaning against a wall for support, trying to catch her breath. The world had started to fade to black as Winston was talking about the girl. She could practically feel Shirazi's breath on her, the cold steel of the blade against her neck. She absently traced the scar on her neck, barely visible below her collar. She didn't even notice Flack standing in front of her until he spoke.

"You need to catch some free time, sunshine?" his voice full of concern for the first time in a long time.

Gus shook her head, adjusting her posture to full height. "I'm fine, just another case, right?" She strode off, leaving Flack with a frown on his face.

She walked into the lab to brief Mac, finding Lindsay already briefing him on the identity of the kidnap victim. "Her name is Madeline Briggs, report was filed 5 days ago by her mother, see went missing from Miami. There were traces of sedative in her urine, and something else. She's fighting for two, Mac, she is pregnant," Lindsay said, looking downcast.

"Winston, the carjacking gunshot vic, said she was still alive when Steele forced him out of the car," Gus added, praying the poor girl was okay and realizing how lucky she had been to not have been moved out-of-state when working the Shirazi case, or worse.

Adam came in, his expression clearly troubled. He looked at the trio, studying Gus carefully before starting to speak. "I ran the rest of the prints. I found evidence of more than one woman in that sleeper," he said, worry furrowing his brow.

"How many?" Mac inquired.

Adam kept his gaze locked on Gus, knowing what she had been through working undercover and guessing it was still effecting her based on how she had reacted to the shooting. "A lot," he said finally.

He was visibly shaken as he pulled up his results on the screen. "This hits are all from prints in the truck from Namus. There are lots of results from all over the US," he explained, photographs of missing women filling the screen.

Gus ducked out just as Lindsay was identifying the Jane Doe from the barrel. She felt like the walls were starting to close in and couldn't get the image of her blood spilling on that putrid green tile out of her head or the masked man empty his clip into her vest on the day Jess died or the flood waters creeping up over her feet, carrying her shoes away as a drowning man tried to pull himself up by grabbing on to her leg...

"Gus, Gus, look at me, are you with me?" Adam implored in front of her, gently cradling her face. "I need you to breathe, you are having a panic attack," he said, leading her from the hallway to the break room, waving several techs out.

"I'm fine, Adam," Gus said, between nearly hyperventilating breaths. She didn't believe herself even as the words came from her lips, her heart felt like it was in a vice and she couldn't seem to focus.

Adam sat with her for a few minutes until her breathing returned to normal and she stopped shaking enough to hold the bottle of water he offered her. They were sitting on the couch when Doyle entered, looking for Mac.

"He's on a video conference with a CSI from Vegas who was working a case in Miami," Adam answered, standing up and trying to get rid of the other man before Gus broke down again. He motioned to the room where Stella and Mac were standing.

Doyle instead took the seat Adam had vacated next to Gus, "you alright, kid, you look like you've-"

"Been rode hard and put up wet?" Gus finished, cutting him off. "I'm fine, I'm being stupid. I take it you are looped in because it looks more and more like a human trafficking ring?"

"Yeah, Mac wanted to talk to some of my informants. Looks like we have everything happening, moving up from sex trafficking to forced surrogacy to organ harvesting. Quite the operation, I am sure the Feds will be on it in a heartbeat, even sooner if I can set up the deal I am working on." Doyle studied Gus as she played with the cap on her bottle. "Thought I told you to take care of yourself," he said, looking up to see Adam staring at them with a mixture of concern and something he thought might be territorial.

Gus flung a hand up, "you and everyone else. I am taking care of myself, and now I would like to help take care of finding this poor pregnant kidnapped woman before Steele does something stupid. So would you care to tell me about this deal you are working on?" she stood up, towering over Doyle's seated figure. Adam left hastily to tell Mac about Gus' reactions.

* * *

**Chapter 89: All I Really Want**

"Like hell I am staying here!" Gus said, following after Doyle a few hours later.

"Gus, it is a simple prisoner transport, Marshall's are on protective duty with Mac, me, and this Ray guy there to question her, we don't need you and I don't think you should be there."

Gus blocked Doyle's path, squaring off, "I want to here what she has to say, I've met her, I might know if she is lying!"

"You know her because she was one of the assistants of an Iranian sex trafficker that almost killed you, I don't think it is the best situation for you to put yourself in, considering."

"Considering what, Jimmy? I'm a delicate flower? Didn't you tell me the other night you would sign the paperwork for me to transfer to your department in a heartbeat? Wouldn't I have to work sex trafficking cases then seeing as it is special freaking victims?" she rapid fired the questions at him making it clear she wasn't planning on standing down.

Doyle heaved out a breath, not having time to argue with her. "Fine, you can come, but you keep quiet. I mean it Broussard, one word and I will cuff you to my steering wheel."

Gus stood behind Doyle, next to heavily armed Federal Marshalls, watching as Mac and Ray Langston questioned Jamileh Azizi. She told them what she knew from having been cellmates with the sex trafficker from the case with Whitford however many months before.

"I wasn't taking notes. Different kind of operation than what we were running. Bigger, more lucrative, but also harder to control," Jamileh said, nodding her head almost in awe.

Gus gave a shudder, wondering how a woman could ever reconcile selling other women. Doyle set a hand on her shoulder. "I'm fine, Jimmy," she said, shaking him off.

"Everything happens to the girls, the more use you get out of one girl, the more money. The truck drivers job is to keep the girls alive, otherwise, no one is making any money. So that girl you are looking for, she should still be alive unless she is trouble. If she is trouble," at this Jamileh locked eyes with Gus, making it clear she recognized the other woman, she raised her cuffed hands to her throat, making a cutting motion, her eyes never leaving Gus'.

Doyle put a hand out to steady Gus and to shield her from Jamileh's view. "Get her out of here, now," he barked at the nearest Marshall. He walked Gus over to the memorial behind them. "This is why you should have stayed behind, kid," he said, cupping her chin as she bent forward, fighting off waves of dizziness. "Stay here, I have to fill out some paperwork," he said, shaking his head as he walked off.

Gus didn't mean to eavesdrop on the conversation between Mac and Ray, but she felt rooted to her spot behind the stone column.

Ray's voice dejected as he said, "I've seen what they do to these young women, body parts strewn by the highway, left as food for animals. You said Madeline put up a fight."

"Doesn't mean she isn't alive, Ray, she's pregnant, means she is valuable," Mac replied.

"Do you have kids?" Ray asked.

"No," Mac said, though Gus could hear the questioning in his tone.

"Suppose we both spared ourselves the stress of this nightmare."

"I don't know you well, Ray, but you don't look so stress free to me. And that female detective that was here, that's my niece. She's how we knew about Jamileh, got caught up undercover with a trafficking ring little less than a year ago. I sometimes wonder if she still isn't trapped by that experience."

Gus' eyes filled with tears at this revelation, but she wiped them angrily away as Ray said, "it never gets easier does it?"

Gus could practically hear Mac shaking his head. "No, it doesn't, but you still have to make that phone call."

She heard Ray walk away and Doyle approach Mac, but didn't hear anything else as Doyle led Mac away.

Daddino was waiting on her when she got back to the precinct, and judging by his expression she was certain someone had sold her out. She turned to glare at Doyle, but he had already disappeared. "Broussard, office now!" Daddino barked.

"I am fine, sir, really, I just forgot to eat breakfast and lunch."

"Yeah, for the past few months it seems. Forget it, I don't want to hear it, you are off the case and if you as so much go within fifty yards of it, I take your badge and put you back on modified duty until you can pass a full psych workout with the head shrinker of my choosing. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, sir," Gus snapped, storming out to her desk. She held her palm up to Parker as he opened his mouth. "Not a word, not now," she snarled.

Her head snapped up at the sound of Flack's voice later, following him and Hawkes walk someone into the interview rooms. She walked over, about to step into the observation room when she heard Daddino clear his throat behind her. "I suggest you stay right where you are, Broussard," he said, his tone heavy with warning.

She couldn't her what was going on, but she could tell that neither detective was happy with the interview. She was slightly taken aback when Sheldon all but punched the guy out and could only guess that the man was in the medical profession, few things got Sheldon so steamed. Gus guessed they must have done some tracking with the organ taken from the body in the barrel.

"They find the driver?" asked Doyle as he looked over her shoulder.

"I don't think so, but I don't know since I can't get any closer than this. Did you call my Lieutenant on me, Jimmy?" Gus didn't even turn to look at him, though he could clearly see the anger radiating from her.

Doyle sighed, "I told your Uncle I was worried about you, because I am, Gus. I thought we talked about you forgiving yourself and focusing on healing yourself the other night."

"We talked about a lot of things the other night," Gus retorted.

Doyle hated not being able to clearly see her face, only her slight reflection in the glass, as her tone gave nothing away. "I need to check in with Mac, but let's catch up, later, okay? I swear, I didn't call Tony and I wasn't trying to get you in trouble. It isn't such a horrible thing to care about you, Gus."

"Yes it is," Gus mumbled as Doyle walked away.

* * *

Gus watched as Flack paced in front of his desk, waiting for information on the other end. "Yep, got it, I'll grab some guys and be right there."

She all but tackled him as he tried to move past. "What is it, Flack?"

He didn't answer right away, checking to make sure Daddino wasn't watching. "Adam got a real-time hit on Winston's phone that Steele took. Apparently he is at a pharmacy, tapping into their security cameras confirmed it. Sheldon and I are going to go try to pick up Steele now."

"What about the girl?"

Flack shook his head, "not on the feed, but hopefully. And no, you cannot come with me, Daddino already warned me. Stay here and get your head on right," he said, giving her arm a squeeze.

"That is real rich coming from you," Gus retorted.

Flack closed his eyes for a second, "I am not getting into this now, I gotta go, we'll catch up later."

Gus sat sullenly at her desk, even after Daddino had ordered her home, "I'm off the clock, sir."

"Go be off the clock somewhere else," he said, knowing she wasn't going to listen and would stay at her desk until Flack got back from the pharmacy, hopefully with Steele in custody.

"What happened?" Gus implored as both Flack and Hawkes came limping back into the precinct, a gash clearly visible on Flack's forehead.

"What happened was we friggin' lost Steele. Found Winston's car, Madeline Briggs wasn't inside. Crime scene is going to take all night to process it, so you may as well head home."

"What about you?" Gus implored, trying to check out Flack's wound as he brushed her off.

Flack swatted at her, "what about me? I'm going to do the same as you, go home and crash out for a few hours, we have been on this for two days solid." He paused, "stop looking at me like that, it is barely a scratch."

"You swear you are going home?" Gus asked, worry clear on her face.

"You want to come with me to make sure I do?" Flack replied as he leaned back in his chair, his devilish dimpled grin almost enough to make Gus swoon.

"I didn't think we were doing that anymore," she finally spat out from her perch on his desk.

They were interrupted before Flack could reply by Daddino all but dragging Gus away from her desk. "See, he is in one piece, now get your ass home! And Flack, I want that incident report now!"

Gus arrived back at the precinct to find a large tactical team being put together to capture Steele.

"Apparently you got something from the car," Gus said to Danny who was looking as forlorn as she was about not being able to join in the take down.

"Soil samples, EDNA matched them to a place out in Corona, junkyard, over by Citi Field, hence the troops," he wandered off in search of Lindsay leaving Gus to observe the team meeting.

"You better not be trying to sneak in on this dressed in full tactical gear, kid," Doyle said as she tried to hide in the back of the room.

Gus shot him a glare, "I am planning on keeping my badge. It still sucks being benched for this, though."

"Yes, you seem like you're staying completely separated from the case, following your CO's orders to a T," Doyle smirked.

Gus caught Flack glaring at them and decided to retreat before there was a scene. Doyle had a point, Daddino had warned her well away from the case and sitting in on tactical planning probably wasn't the best idea.

"This sucks," Gus moaned, pacing around the lab later. She had brought up some cold evidence for them to run while they were all waiting for word.

"You're telling me," Danny agreed.

Lindsay patted her husband's back, "you'll be back out there making me worry soon enough, baby," she said with a smile.

"I got a case to case hit, but still no ID, sorry, Gus," Adam said, coming toward her holding a printout. He studied her carefully before handing it to her, "how are you feeling?" he asked, chewing on his lip.

Gus gave him a half-smile, "I'll be fine, Adam, don't worry about me." She was about to continue to reassure him when Mac came back in, looking frustrated.

All eyes on him, he shook his head. "We got Steele, but he isn't talking and Madeline wasn't anywhere around. Our best guess is, she has already been transported out-of-town. Commissioner said it is no longer an NYPD case. Ray is still chasing it down."

Everyone gave their support, though Gus hung back until they were alone. "Did you tell Daddino to pull me off the case?" she asked, trying to keep the anger out of her voice.

Mac looked at her intently. "You didn't seem well, Augusta and I'm concerned about you." Gus knew he wasn't going to say anything more on the subject, so she was surprised when he continued, "why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow night, we can catch up."

* * *

**Chapter 90: China**

Gus pressed the buzzer next to Mac's door, the bottle of wine clutched tightly in her hand. She had tried to duck his invitation to no avail. He swung it open, greeting her before heading back to the stove, pots steaming away. "Where's Sheldon?" she asked, looking around.

"Out with an agent looking at places. I guess being roommates with your boss isn't the most ideal situation," Mac replied with a smirk.

Gus nodded, setting her belongings down and opening up the wine, pouring them each a glass, though Mac barely looked at his. Gus stood at the kitchen island, watching her uncle cook. "I can help," she said, feeling useless.

Mac gave her a smile, "I know you can, you can also rest." He took in his niece's appearance, she was drawn, dark circles under her eyes and her skin paler than he had ever seen it. The weight of the world pressing down on her slightly stooped shoulders and she looked lost, haunted even.

"Not being able to work the Steele case was a rest, thank you very much for that by the way," Gus snipped, though she instantly regretted it. Instead of apologizing, she drained her glass of wine and poured another glass, ignoring the judgmental look from Mac.

"It wasn't just my call, Augusta," he replied with a warning tone, "Doyle and your Lieutenant didn't want you to work the case either."

"So I'm banned from doing my job because the overprotective men in my life think I might break?" Gus slammed the wine bottle back down on the counter.

"You are not banned from your job and no one is being overprotective or saying you are going to break. Lieutenant Doyle simply suggested that distance from this case might be better for you in the long run."

"Lieutenant Doyle should mind his own damn business and his own team!" Gus snarled.

Mac turned the burner off underneath the pot he was stirring, dinner would have to wait. "He is worried about you, a sentimental that I and many other people share. You haven't been yourself in months, don't try to deny it. When was the last time you went out with Lindsay and Stella? Or returned Adam or Sheldon's calls? What about Reed? He asked me if you had moved to China the last time I saw him. Not to mention this business with Flack..." Mac trailed off, as Gus' head snapped up, her eyes full of fire.

"What are you talking about Mac?" she said, her voice on edge.

Mac sighed, "Parker told me you've covered for him, following him to make sure he doesn't get in trouble."

"That was Parker's idea in the first place," Gus deflected throwing her hands up.

Mac came out from behind the island, facing off with his niece. "How long has all this been going on, Augusta?" Mac's mouth set in a straight line.

Gus felt like a teenage getting caught sneaking out, she looked down at her feet while answering, "I don't know, a little bit." She could feel Mac staring at her, the intensity causing her to finally make eye contact. "Months," she finally admitted, her eyes filling with tears.

"You aren't doing him any good, Gussie, Don has to deal with his own demons."

"So turn my back on him? I can't do that, Mac, I love him!" Gus implored.

Mac shook his head and sighed, "I know you do, but if you really love him, you have to understand you aren't saving him and you are hurting yourself. You are lying to your commanding officer, you are putting yourself in danger, you are digging yourself into a hole so deep, I am not sure you can even climb out of it."

"I'm fine," she mumbled, even though she knew she wasn't.

"You and I both know that isn't true. Do you even want to keep your badge, Gussie?" Mac asked, moving over to the couch and sitting down.

Gus remained standing, tracing the rim of the wine glass, "of course I do! I want Don to keep his as well, is that so bad?"

He motioned her over, though she wavered for a moment before sitting on the couch herself. "Don Flack is not your responsibility," he held his palm up as Gus started to speak, "please, just listen. I know you love him, I knew it before you two even did. Things have changed though, and the best way you can help is to stop helping. You are never going to know if Don is better if you keep picking up the pieces. If you want to keep being a detective, I highly suggest you tell your Lieutenant you need a new partner or consider transferring to another department."

Gus looked at him incredulous, "is Mac Taylor telling me to run away from my problems?"

Mac shook his head, "the exact opposite, Gussie, I am telling you to face them, your problems, not his, you two have to not be intertwined for that to happen."

"We're not," Gus started to protest, before realizing he was correct. "How did I get here, Uncle Mac?" Gus asked, feeling like a lost child.

Mac wrapped an arm around her, "I don't know, but we'll get you out," he said, drawing her in as her tears began to fall.

They ended up ordering a pizza, the pots abandoned on the stove as Gus fell apart on the couch. Sheldon came in, almost leaving in again as he saw the tear stains on Gus' face.

Gus waved him in, "don't leave, Shel, please? I am sorry I've been such a crap friend lately."

Sheldon gave her a small smile as Mac retreated to his bedroom, leaving the younger detectives to catch up.

"Have you talked to anyone about this?" Sheldon asked, taking the offered glass of wine and sitting next to her.

Gus shrugged, "sort of," thinking of Doyle and her breakdown with Mac just now.

"You know you have PTSD, right?" Sheldon said, cutting to the chase.

"I haven't forgotten all of my psych training, Sheldon," Gus said with an empty laugh.

"So what are you going to do about it?" he pressed on, sincerely worried for his friend.

"I am currently trying to figure that out," she sighed, taking a small sip of wine before setting the glass down.

Sheldon rested his hand lightly on her knee, "you need anything, at all, you know you can call me."

"How can you be so sweet when I have been so terrible? I didn't even know you were homeless and I have a guest bed, hell I barely even use my bed!" Gus exclaimed.

"You haven't been terrible, you've been dealing with more than any one person should. You have been there for me, all of us in the past, Gus. We are family and the best part of family is you don't stop caring and you can pick up right where you left off."

Gus nodded absently, "I suppose so. I also suppose I should get going."

"Can you get home okay?" Sheldon asked.

"I haven't forgotten how to call a cab, Shel!" Gus said, forcing a smile and giving him a hug on her way out.

* * *

Gus stood in front of Mac's building, waiting on her ride, wishing she had something stronger than wine and desperate for a cigarette. Something she had given up that first New Year's Eve because of Flack's teasing, even if she had briefly picked up the habit again in New if psychically connected, her phone started buzzing in her hand, his number coming up on the screen. She hovered over the reject call button, debating. She knew Mac was correct, she wasn't ever going to know if Don was alright if she kept rescuing him. Yet she couldn't help but feel like he was her problem. Wasn't that part of loving someone, taking on their problems as your own? Not to mention, she couldn't rid herself of the thought that if it had been her that day instead of Jess, everyone would be back to normal by now. Gus couldn't tell if that thought was comforting or depressing. Probably both. Her problem was she couldn't decide between listening to her head or her heart. As her cab pulled up, she hit the answer button, ignoring the waves of instant regret washing over her.

Flack was outside his building as her cab pulled up, flipping his old Zippo open and closed, the flame catching in the ever cooling night breeze. Gus couldn't help but give a small smile at how similar they could be. "I'm going to go broke paying for cabs, Flack," she said by way of greeting.

He raised his eyebrows at her, "you could take the subway, millions of people do every single day."

"I was at Mac's, this was easier, especially since I was planning on going home," Gus replied. Flack gave a slight nod, slipping the lighter in his jacket pocket, but didn't say anything. "Did you just call me to hang out in front of your building, because this is a little weird," she said, as she stood there, her hands shoved in the pockets of her jeans.

"Nah, I called you because..." Flack trailed off, moving closer enough that Gus could smell the whiskey and cigarettes on his breath as he hooked a finger through her belt loop. He called her because every woman who approached him at the bar tonight reminded him of her, because he had seen how she had almost fallen to pieces during the Steele case but almost ripped off Daddino's head when he pulled her, because he wanted to be even a fraction of the safety net she had been for him, but mostly he called her because he was lonely and missed her.

"This was a mistake," Gus whispered as he moved in for a kiss.

"So what? We all make mistakes," Flack replied, his hand twisting in her hair as he pulled her to him.

Curled on the couch clad in his undershirt, Gus poured another slug of whiskey from the bottle on the coffee table, Flack passed out on his bed, a miracle they had even made it to the bedroom. Depressed at that being an improvement, Gus quickly downed the amber liquid, pouring another one robotically. Why had he called her to his place? He hadn't needed a ride home or someone to pay his bar tab or to break up a fight or to get some slut off of him. Was something different about tonight?

"You shouldn't drink alone, or so people keep telling me," Flack said as he padded into the living room, sitting on the couch beside her and taking a swig straight from the bottle.

"Classy," she replied, raising her glass to him. His raised eyebrows his only reply as he set the bottle back down. "Why did you call me, Don?" she asked, curling up in the corner, resting her head on her palm.

He ran his fingers through his shorn hair, unsure how to answer her. "You just looked like you could use a friend," he replied finally.

"A friend, huh?" Gus pressed on, a smirk spreading across her face, "you have an interesting definition of friendship, Don Flack, that why you stopped hanging out with Messer after he got hitched?"

Flack couldn't help but share in her laughter, closing the distance between them on the couch, tickling her until she was out of breath. "You're a mess," he said, covering her body with his own as she panted.

She looked up at him, her green eyes wide, gently tracing his jaw line. "We both are. Isn't that why we keep ending up like this?"

His expression softened before the walls came back up, but he remained on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows. He thought about saying everything he had thought, everything that he had carried around in his heavy, broken heart this past year, but he couldn't make the words come out.

"We have to stop this, don't we?" she said, tears filling her eyes for a second time that night. But unlike Mac, Don didn't pull her into his arms. He moved off her, unable to look at her. Taking another pull of whiskey and nodding in agreement.

"I don't know if I can," she said, swiping angrily at the tears she saw as betraying her.

"I know," Flack said, his voice hollow, the distance between them feeling like an ocean.

* * *

**Chapter 91: Can't Stay Here**

Gus arrived early for her shift, wanting to get to the precinct before Flack, before she could change her mind. She knew this was something she had to do, not just for her but for the both of them. Mac was right, if she really loved Flack, she had to take a step back. Gus knew she wasn't strong enough to do it on her own. She only hoped Doyle was telling the truth about being willing to have her as part of his team. Though she regretted cutting off any relationship potential with him, lord knows she was a wreck in that department.

"You gotta sec, Loo?" Gus asked hesitantly from Daddino's doorway.

He looked at her, seeing the look in her eyes. He had known for a while this day was coming. It wasn't that he couldn't link Broussard up with someone else. Parker and Fletcher had both offered, even Lafferty and Thatcher were willing, the problem was his entire team had threatened to have their own blue flu if any of them got paired up with the volatile Don Flack. He wasn't willing to call them on their bluff, not entirely sure it was one. Even though Flack had said he didn't want partnered with Gus anymore, Daddino felt better when someone had Flack's back, it was why he had lied to the younger detective about Brass telling him off. "Come on in, Broussard, shut the door."

Gus did, slumping down in the chair in front of his desk, unable to keep up appearances. It was clear she hadn't slept, given the circles under her red rimmed eyes.

"You look like you've been twelve rounds with Mike Tyson, what's up?" Daddino asked, raising his eyebrows in concern.

"I think I need a transfer." Gus went straight to the point despite rehearsing a long speech about how she wasn't being the best detective, that the NYPD shouldn't accept anything less, that she owed the people of the city more and on and on, but when it came down to it, she needed out from seeing Flack destroy himself piece by piece before it destroyed her as well.

"Been waiting for this," Daddino shrugged, "at least you didn't ship me your badge this time, shows some real growth." He gave her a small smile to take the sting out of his words, he meant them though. He had half been waiting for her to just disappear, almost wouldn't blame her, though he knew if she had he wouldn't be able to cover for her this time. Daddino was glad she wan't burning bridges this time around.

Gus smirked back, "yeah, I really feel like I have grown over the last year plus." Her sarcasm was palpable, though her posture was that of a beaten dog.

"I know Doyle would be happy to take you off my hands over in Special Vics," Daddino paused, studying the detective carefully. There had been some rumors about Doyle and Broussard, but he hadn't really paid them much mind. Broussard was still doing her job and who was he to say about her sleeping with someone not under his command. Though he hoped the Lieutenant would nip that in the bud if Gus ended up over there.

Gus didn't respond, knowing Daddino was telling the truth, there was really nowhere else for her to go in her current situation. Other departments saw her as unstable and wounded.

"That being said," Daddino finally continued, "you ever hear of the Law Enforcement Exchange Program?"

Gus wrinkled her brow, "LEEP, where they send over like third world cops to see how things get done in America?" She wondered where he was going with this. She wanted to distance herself from Flack, but she wasn't planning on being shipped off to the other end of the planet.

Daddino gave a short bark of laughter, "Gus, you turning more cop on me than shrink? Old you would have been all developing nations and crap."

Gus slumped further, regretting having stepped foot in his office. "Times are a changing, I guess."

"Anyway, yeah that, except it has grown a bit over the past few years and we are doing exchanges within the US too. I actually got a call a couple of months ago from a Lieutenant back down in your old swamping grounds. Apparently a little birdie told him about your work on our mess of cold cases here and he is more than a little interested in you."

Gus slit her eyes at Daddino. "What does that mean exactly, Tony?" She was trying to process what he was saying, but her emotions and lack of sleep where making things hard to comprehend.

Daddino sighed, interpreting her demeanor as her calling him on his shit, which was more like the old Broussard than he had seen in some time. "It means I ran my mouth off one night at that conference I went to because I wanted to look good and some New Orleans Loo recognized your name and wants to reclaim you. I am not gonna let that happen, but I agree it might be a good idea for you to cool your heels somewhere other than here for a couple of months. So maybe I call him up and you can go down there for a few months and they can send up some moon-faced kid and we can try to turn them into a real detective."

"You actually want to send me back to New Orleans even though last year I-" Gus started in, pulling herself upright and trying to absorb what her boss was saying.

Daddino waved her off, "let the past stay in the past, something all my detectives apparently need to work on. This time would be official, Broussard, from the get go. You give me the go ahead, I make a call, and we can get things rolling." He stared at her, waiting for her answer.

Gus found herself unable to form words, choosing merely to nod consent instead while internally wondering if she was not making a huge mistake.

Things moved quicker than she could have imagined. Daddino immediately picking up the phone in his office and magically being connected to the Lieutenant he had met despite the early hour. Gus didn't know whether to leave his office or stay, but she felt rooted to her chair.

"Yes, you were right about those New Orleans girls, I really didn't think she would agree to it, shows you I don't know squat. Oh, don't be smug Colston or I won't sign off on this. You better not send me a dud because I am sending you one of my best and I want her back in one piece."

Gus sat there, thinking Daddino was talking about her former self, not the person occupying the chair in front of his desk, continuing to listen in on her fate being planned out for her. "I don't know, two weeks?" he looked up at Gus who shrugged, though she was secretly thinking two weeks sounded like eternity when she was trying to not answer Flack's calls or run into him at work. "No, not tomorrow, Colston, cool your jets. Fine, fine, yeah. Hold on, what's his name? Got it. Yeah, she's got a place, probably nicer than whatever hovel your boy is living in."

Gus perked up at this, "make sure it isn't a FEMA trailer," she hissed, suddenly worried about agreeing to this. Daddino replied by scratching an address on his pad and turning it to face her. She made a face.

"Yeah, her place is definitely nicer than his. You are getting the better end of the deal on this, I hope you know. I'm warning you, Colston, end of six months and I will get on a plane myself to come get her."

"Six months?" Gus squeaked out, dropping her head into her hands. What had she gotten herself into?

* * *

Gus hovered near Mac's doorway, waiting for him to get off the phone, he noticed her standing there through the glass and motioned her in. She opened her mouth to explain what she had just done, hoping he would talk her out of it. Her heart sank as Mac wrapped up his conversation, "I agree, Tony, think this is the best thing for her. Talk to you soon."

Gus whistled, "word travels fast round these parts."

"I take it that is why you came up here?" Mac replied.

Gus nodded, standing in front of his desk. "Was sort of hoping you would tell me it was a dumb idea considering last time didn't work out so well there."

"Last time you ran away and worked yourself nearly to death for a corrupt Captain who is now in federal prison. This time it is an official exchange where someone will be keeping an eye on you," Mac said, staring her down as though she were a child.

"I know, but it seems awfully dramatic and a little like running away again. I could have transferred to Special Vics or Vice or Brooklyn," Gus shuddered at the last suggestion.

"Transferring to another department won't stop you from answering Flack's calls in the middle of the night," Mac pointed out.

Gus made a noise, hating that she was so transparent to him. "You always have to be right, don't you Mac?"

"Not always, just often," he retorted with a smile, "when are you going?"

"This weekend, enough time to get my place in order and ready for some stranger to live in it and pack for six months. Tony said a couple of months, not six!" Gus exclaimed.

Mac got up and walked around the desk, giving her a side hug. "You can come home for a visit or two, stay with me, Sheldon just signed a lease."

"Visit home, isn't that an oxymoron? I really should stop listening to you," Gus sighed.

"Last time you said that you ended up calling me from an embassy in Africa," Mac replied with a slight smirk.

"It wasn't my fault!" Gus protested, before giving him a long hug. "Thanks, Uncle Mac, for being there."

"No problem, Gussie, any time."

* * *

**Chapter 92: Always Leaving**

Gus was given the rest of the week off to get her affairs in order, which to her sounded more like she was dying than leaving New York for a few months. She didn't tell anyone what was happening, despite Mac's protesting, unable to say goodbye to everyone and everything she loved, despite knowing it was the best choice for the moment.

"I just can't, Mac, please try to understand!" she pleaded as he helped her pack up a few sentimental items he was planning on storing for her.

"What I do I say to everyone when you just disappear again?" he asked, putting together another box.

"You'll think of something," she said, carefully wrapping up some of her mother's and aunt's jewelry. She stood, returning Mac's stare. "I will explain it to everyone, but I have to do it, just not here or now. I can't deal with any big scenes now or I won't go through it and I need to leave. You were right when you said I can't help myself, I'll just keep running to Don every time he calls and that isn't helping either of us."

"So you aren't even planning on telling him?" Mac asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

Gus tore off a piece of tape with her teeth, ignoring Mac's wincing, he and Claire having paid for her braces so many years ago. "I don't know," she sighed, stacking the box atop another one. "I suppose he deserves an explanation this time more than anyone else, considering. But how do I even begin to explain this to him without making it seem like I am blaming him?"

"You aren't blaming him, you are helping him. Be honest, you are doing this for you both. He might surprise you, he might understand," Mac suggested.

Gus rolled her eyes, "yes, I am certain that is how it will go, he'll probably even offer to drive me to the airport."

"Give him some credit," Mac said, even though he agreed more with his niece than he cared to admit. Don Flack was a powder keg as of late. That was why he was being supportive of this LEEP assignment, even if he worried about Gus being back in New Orleans again. He had called her friend down there, ensuring that the younger man would be keeping a close eye on her.

* * *

Even though she had promised herself she wouldn't, she couldn't help but thinking of Mac's suggestion when Flack called her late that night. She answered his call on the first ring.

"How did you get time off?" he asked, sounding forlorn and at least a drink or two in.

"Daddino seemed to think I needed a break," she replied, almost having to laugh at the truth of it.

Flack didn't immediately reply, until finally asking "you want to come over?"

Gus sighed, "maybe for a bit. But Don, I'm not going to sleep with you."

"Didn't say you had to," he retorted, even though that had been his reason for calling, that and wanting to keep the monsters at bay, something Gus was able to do best of all.

"I'll be right there," she said, already heading out the door.

Flack met her at his door, a glint in this eye and a drink in his hand. She took it as soon as he offered it, slamming it down in trying to keep her courage up, even if it made her resolve crumble. "Not sleeping with me, huh?" he remarked as she moved past him to the bottle and poured herself another drink.

"I'm not," she said, offering him the bottle, which he greedily accepted.

"Yeah, because that isn't how this ends," Flack replied, motioned between them.

"We are both keeping our pants on tonight, Don. End of story, shut up and drink," she commanded.

They sat there, drinking, neither of them willing to break the tenuous silence between them, Gus still trying to muster up the courage to say what she had come here to say. Finally she took and deep breath and came out with it. "I can't keep doing this Don, it isn't healthy for either of us."

"Whaddya mean?" Don slurred slightly.

Gus turned to him, resting a hand on his leg, her eyes full of pleading, "I mean I love you more than anything, but you are still hung up on Jess, Cade, everything! You got demons to work through on your own."

Flack brushed her hand off him, his confusion turning to anger in a beat. "So you aren't going to keep helping me?"

"This isn't helping you, blue eyes, this is rescuing you without saving you," Gus sighed, this wasn't the way she wanted this to go.

"You just gonna not pick up the phone when I call, stop following me, ignore me in the pit?" Flack was being belligerent, this new bitter side of him seeping out like poison. He stood, towering over her in a way that made her uneasy enough to stand as well.

Gus shook her head, "see you know I can't do that, I've tried and failed. I'm sort of leaving town for a bit."

"Running away again?" Flack sneered at her, with an expression Gus wasn't used to seeing directed at anyone except perps. It broke her heart as she started to gather her belongings.

"Daddino worked out an official LEEP for me. Apparently New Orleans heard about my cold case system and wants my help."

"You're willing to leave for a city that has shit on you time and time again?" he said, his voice raising to a shout.

"Apparently I am good at getting shit on!" Gus shouted back, her resolve starting to break. This was exactly what she didn't want, them fighting again. "We both need space, but I am not running away, I am taking a break. You might want to think about doing the same, getting some real help. I can't sit back and watch you like this anymore. I truly do love you with all my heart, Don, but for right now the only thing you can do is break it and me." She gave him a hug he refused to return and a chaste kiss before leaving, the sound of the door closing as hollow as both their hearts.

* * *

Mac pulled to the curb at the airport, helping Gus with her bags. "You sure you don't want me to just tell them all at once?" he asked, as she extended the handle on her suitcase.

"No, Mac, really. I will have letters in the mail to everyone the minute I touch down at MSY, promise. You'll give them the envelopes right?"

"Yes, Augusta, have them right here," he patted his suit jacket, "though why you can't just email..."

"Come on, Mac, I thought you would be the first to agree that letter writing is a lost art. And with six of you, everyone just needs to write 4 letters over six months, even y'all can't be that busy!"

Mac calculated, Gus shook her head, "I know what you are thinking, I didn't include Flack. We didn't exactly part on the best of terms."

"You told him then?" Mac said, he had been curious, but hadn't wanted to push.

"Yeah, he took it so well. Look, I better let you go before Homeland Security chases you off."

Mac drew her into a hug, "take care of yourself, Gussie."

"I will Uncle Mac, and don't forget to write," she said with a broad smile, trying to hold back her tears.

Mac returned it with a sad smile of his own, climbing in the truck, pointing it toward the latest crime scene on the East River. Never a dull moment in the city that never sleeps, he thought to himself as he pulled away from the curb, giving his niece one last wave, hoping she would be able to put some of her ghosts to rest.

* * *

_**A/N: So that is it for this one, feel free to head on over to "To New York With Love" the rest of Season 6 sequel. The first part of it is told through letters and emails, which was a bit of a departure for me. Warning, I will be spamming you with the edits on that because they are filling up my doc box!**_

_** I am also working on my Season 7+ sequel "How Does Your Garden Grow" as well as my response to a few challenges, but I just got a job so that might cut into my writing time.**_

_**As always, I thank you for your readership and reviews, TPTB for the inspiration and remind them I don't own anything except my OCs and Cowboy Mouth for the chapter titles and writing music!**_


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